The Pages of Malfoy
by Anlynne
Summary: Two rivals... A debt... A journal... Secrets... Draco, and Hermione will find what they're made of this year.
1. Chapter 1

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

All Rights Belong To JKR

Chapter One

Malfoy's Debt

Slowly the sun rose over the horizon, and above the dark Forbidden Forest. It spilled its day through the castle windows one being the Gryffindor girls dormitory room. A sleeping figure stirred under the covers of a large four poster bed, and the soft sound of muffled groaning broke the silence of the otherwise vacant room.

Hermione Granger pushed the covers away, and sat up rubbing her tired eyes. She looked over to her nightstand, and saw the luminous red numbers. With a small gasp she leapt out of the bed the cold stone floor sending her shivers from her bare feet. She was late; she was never late.

Throwing off her yellow pajamas with the printed blue flowers she pulled on worn jeans, and a fitted brown top. There were no classes that weekend, and she was glad she didn't have to put on her school robe, and triple check to make sure her tie was straight.

Snatching her wand from the stand she ran it over her untamable brown hair. It remained bushy as ever, but it was no longer in knots. She slung her book bag over her shoulders.

The common room was completely empty with its comfortable red couches, and chairs, the fire in the hearth having died, or been put out sometime the night before. It all showed that breakfast had already begun, and due to her short stature she wasn't able to take the steps two at a time so she jogged as quickly as she could down the steps. She made it to the entrance hall when she heard whispered voices, but not from the Great Hall, but the spiral staircase leading to the dungeons.

She shouldn't listen in, it wasn't right, it was an invasion of privacy. It was also where the Slytherin's went to their common room, and she knew that it was probably a couple of Slytherin's talking. That could land her in even more trouble, especially if it was Malfoy, but she must have been hanging around her friends Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley too much, because she risked the chance.

Hermione must have jinxed herself, because as she crept to the wall one was indeed Malfoy's drawl. She practically held her breath so she could recognize the other voice. It was much deeper, and greasy... Professor Snape. She held herself flat against the wall, hoping against hope that she wouldn't be seen, though it was unlikely she would. Their voices were far enough away to suggest that they were hidden behind a pillar feet away.

"I did you a dangerous favor, Mr. Malfoy. You know how the Dark Lord feels about broken promises. If it were not for me you would have your head upon a platter."

"I know, sir," Malfoy's voice was soft, and... Scared?

"Look at me when I'm talking to you! Yes, that's right, now boy, let me explain: The Dark Lord knows that Dumbledore is up to something, he is convinced that he has a secret... That is the only reason you are breathing. Until I can deliver Dumbledore's secret myself, you will be keeping your end of this bargain. Miss Granger must be killed, if she is not then you will be!"

"Yes, sir."

Hermione felt that it was the end of the conversation, neither of them spoke, and she didn't waste another second. She dashed to the Great Hall where four rows of long tables sat the different houses, the ceiling imitating the real sky, and from what she could see in her dazed state it was a cloudless day, but she couldn't stop running. A few faces looked up to her in alarm, but she paid no attention, she slumped in a chair between her friends Ron, and Harry, clutching a stitch in her chest.

"Hermione, what's the matter?" Harry asked concerned. His plate was full of every dish there. During his summer with his aunt, and uncle Harry never got enough to eat, and though he spent most of the year eating at Hogwarts, he never seemed to gain any weight, he was as skinny as ever, but compared to their first year he had grown several inches.

She held up a hand attempting to catch her ragged breath, and watched over Harry's shoulder as Malfoy with his blonde white hair, and usual sneer strutted in. Behind Ron Snape emerged from a door behind the tables reserved for the teachers, and sat down his cold eyes surveying the chipper students.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you look like you ran all the way from the common room. You're not that late." Ron shoveled more bacon into his mouth. His plate was piled with food, but he was never starved in his life. Ron simply did not have any manners, but sometimes she couldn't help but smile, he was quite adorable. He had vivid red hair, freckles all over his face, and he towered over her, and Harry.

"Oh, for Merlin sakes, Ron, close your mouth!" She shook her head, and turned to Harry. "I need to talk with you. Now!"

"What about me," Ron asked through a mouthful of food.

Hermione didn't look at him. "If you don't mind putting your fork down long enough!"

The three of them stood, but not before Ron stuffed two pieces of toast into this pocket. They rushed out of the hall. "Where're we going," he asked as they went up several staircases.

"Library," she answered shortly.

"Like we never spend enough time in there," he grumbled, Hermione ignored him.

On the third floor they turned into the library. It was glorious, Hermione's favorite place in the world. There were hundreds of bookcases reaching to the ceiling, and they were all filled with books leaving no gaps in between. It was calming to her, the smell of parchment. It was the best place to be at the moment, after she found that she was going to be killed by a fellow student.

Ms. Pince narrowed her eyes suspiciously at them, but she didn't have time to question them as they strolled too quickly past her. They took a table in the far back letting her book bag fall to the floor with a thud. It was not like anyone was there anyway, all of them being down for breakfast, at least for another two minutes, but she whispered anyhow, and told them of the conversation she overheard, and for a few moments they sat in silence letting it sink in. Ron was the first to speak.

"We'll go to Dumbledore, he'll stop it."

Hermione shook her head slowly. "If we do that Malfoy will be killed."

"So," Ron almost yelled, and Harry nudged him warningly jerking his head over to Ms. Pince. "He'll kill you! When did you start caring for the ferret anyway?"

He had a point, though Hermione wouldn't admit it. "Maybe if I talked to him first -"

"Sure, give him a head start to curse you!"

Hermione's elbows dug into the table covering her forehead. She felt a headache coming on, and felt the warm, and firm hand of Harry's land on her shoulder.

"It'll be okay, we'll get to Malfoy before he gets to you. We'll lock him in a cupboard, or something for the rest of the year."

"Yeah," Ron agreed excitedly.

She smiled weakly. "I suppose so... Come on, lets go down by the lake. I need fresh air," she picked up her book bag hauling it over her shoulder, and Ron looked at her expectantly.

"Hermione..." He sighed. "It's the weekend, what're you doing carrying around your pack?"  
"Just because it's the weekend doesn't mean that I don't have to polish my essay to Professor Flitwick, Ron!"

Ron rolled his eyes to Harry, Hermione pretended not to see it. One day they will understand the importance of school work, even if she had to beat it in their heads.


	2. Chapter 2

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Two

At The Lakes Edge

For the rest of the day Hermione wasn't able to shake off Harry, and Ron. She was beginning to regret telling them about Malfoy's job. When she tried to go into the girls lavatory Ron almost followed her in. Luckily Harry pulled him back in time before the other girls saw. They thought if they left her alone for only a second that Malfoy would kill her then, even if they were in the middle of a crowded hallway.

That night she fell into bed relieved that boys weren't allowed in the girls dormitory. She was willing to bet every single one of her books that they would have camped beside her bed if they could. She smiled at this thought. Hermione was lucky to have two people that cared so much for her, no matter how annoying they could be.

She expected sleep to overtake her quickly, but when she laid her head on her feathered pillow she felt wide awake. The covers were stifling, but if she kicked them to the side a draft would chill her legs. She would have drawn the drapes around her bed, but with them closed she wouldn't be able to see anyone approaching her bed. She knew it was near impossible for Malfoy to turn up there, but she didn't want to take any risks. She didn't even lay her wand by her nightstand like she usually did, but kept it at her side like a security blanket.

With all her tossing, and turning Crookshanks who curled up at her side looked up at her indignantly many times. Eventually her cat hopped down to go in search for some lingering mice.

Her side suddenly felt bare. Fear was getting to her. Hermione shouldn't be scared. She had faced far worse things with Harry, and Ron than Malfoy. Malfoy was nothing to be frightened of, he was simply a schoolboy git, and he was not going to get under Hermione's skin. She was determined of that since their second year when he called her a mudblood.

She threw her covers off, and pulled on her school robe over her outfit she had worn that day. She would have put on her pajamas, but the fear over the day had become so deeply imbedded that she got the idea that she might need to run in the middle of the night, and she wasn't prepared to do that in her sleepwear. That last thought she clutched her wand, and left her dormitory. She was going to walk the castle, and she wasn't going to be scared. If she was going to die then she was going to die brave. She was a Gryffindor after all.

Hermione felt her pocket for her prefect badge. If she was to be caught by Mrs. Norris, or Filch she would have the perfect excuse. She was a prefect, and it was her duty to make sure no one was sneaking around at late hours... Like she was.

From the first time she walked the halls in her first year she had the feeling that the statues of the knights weren't simply there for decoration, that they actually did move, and she blamed them for the little noises that made her jump.

_Get a hold of yourself, Hermione_ she told herself silently. She figured it was time to get out of the castle. She could walk the grounds. After the first nervous year in school second years were ready to start breaking rules. It was possible that some strayed out into the grounds. Yes, entirely possible.

Fall was nearing the nights growing colder. Hermione pulled her robe tighter around her. The wind blew unrelenting causing her hair to fly over her shoulders, and in her face. It felt wonderful, and in some odd way it refreshed her mind. Things didn't seem too bad. Malfoy was taking the task of killing her, it was only a promise to do what he had wanted since they first met each other. There was still a chance that he wouldn't have the guts to do it...

Hermione's thoughts fell away as she spotted a shilloute by the lake. She squinted her eyes curiously. She was out her on the excuse that she was searching for rule-breaking students, but she didn't think she would actually spot one. She started to march down the slight hill towards the kid.

"You're not supposed to be out here. What house are -" She stopped short, in her sentence, and in her tracks. The boy turned his pointed face around, and sneered at her. Malfoy...

"And what are you doing out here, Granger?"

Hermione shook herself out of her shock. It was just Malfoy. He was a spineless ferret. "I'm a prefect, Malfoy. That'll be fifty points from Slytherin. Get back to your common room before I take more."

He laughed, and her insides shivered. "Think you're all high, and mighty? The only reason you're a prefect is because of that mudblood lover."

Her hands itched to hit him like she did in their third year. "I'm warning you, you need to go to your room. Don't make me get one of the professors."

"Is that a threat," he asked coming dangerously close to her face. She could feel his hot breath on her forehead. "Don't make _me_ feed you to the squid here, Granger. Then again, I don't think he would find a filthy little mudblood like you tasty."

Before she could answer, something dark, and long shot up out of the water, and wrapped itself around Malfoy's waist. He screamed horrified, and as Hermione jumped back as he was dragged into the darkness of the water.

Her mind reeled. Malfoy may have deserved it, but she wasn't about to lower herself to his level. There was no way. There was also the fact that if a life was taken in front of her when she could have done something, no matter who that life belonged to, she would never be able to forgive herself. So she slipped off her robe, and stood at the lakes edge, the cold water brushing over her toes. Then she ran in, slipping a little in the mud. Taking a deep breath she dived in, the iciness of the water shocking her.

Gloom engulfed her. She couldn't see anything. She felt the bottom weeds tickling her shins. She had the nasty feeling that water dwellers were watching her, and she sped up so as to give them little chance to get their thin fingers around her wrists, and ankles. She pulled out her wand from her pocket, and saying the spell in her head the tip of her wand lit. It helped very little, but at least now she could see the weeds she was feeling.

Unable to hold her breath any longer she quickly swam to the surface. She took a sharp intake of air into her dry lungs. Her arms, and legs were getting tired, but she dived back down again, and after a few feet downwards she saw a tentacle enclosing an unconscious Malfoy in its grasp. His head lolled from side to side, his hair swaying over his head, his arms hanging uselessly. She swam forward.

Hermione held her wand out in front of her, and concentrated on another spell. Bright light shot out from the end of it, and hit the squid's hold. She closed her eyes against it, and when she opened them the light was fading, and Malfoy was falling deeper into the water. She kicked harder rushing to him, and grabbed him around the waist. As she tried to pull him up she gasped giant bubbles floating from her mouth, and water entered her lungs. She coughed, and kicked again getting a little further.

Black dots sparked in front of her eyes. Her brain was losing oxygen, and she thought briefly of letting Malfoy go, and saving herself. It was a horrible thought, and she sickened herself. This was the right thing to do, and she was all about doing the right thing, it was what she based her life around. This is what she stood for.

Finally, right when she thought they were going to fall to the depths of the lake they reached the surface. She felt the wind blow, her face becoming numb, her hair plastered to the sides of her face. She tightened her hold on Malfoy, and swam to the edge. She felt her energy draining from her, and she wondered that if making it to the surface wasn't going to be enough, that they might just sink into the lakes depths.

When they reached the edge, Hermione dropped him unceremoniously on his back the water rippling underneath him. She fell to her hands, and knees, coughing up water until she was close to coughing up blood. She glanced over at Malfoy lying still beside her his school robe clinging to his slight figure, and she noticed that it didn't look like he was breathing. His chest wasn't moving. She didn't want to touch him, the thought repulsed her, but she pressed her fingers to the side of his neck searching for a pulse. There was one, faint, but he was still alive. She a finger under his nose, but there was no warm breath. She started to panic then. If he died she might get expelled!

Hermione steadied herself for what she was about to do. She tilted his head back opening his mouth. She looked in checking if there was anything lodged as she remembered from a class she took during last summer. She thought this kind of thing would come in handy with Harry, and Ron. She never dreamed that she would have to use it on Malfoy!

She opened her mouth, and pressed it against his breathing life into his lungs. She brought her head back up. He still wasn't breathing. She counted to five, and bent down to breathe into him again. She did this several times, and was becoming close to hopeless tears when he coughed. Hermione rolled him over to his side helping him sputter out the water. She was deeply thankful, and relieved.

Malfoy rolled over to his back, and looked up at his rescuer. His gray eyes rounded, and he sat up suddenly. There was a light blush over his cheeks, and Hermione tried very hard not to smile.

"Y-you!"

Hermione nodded. "You okay?"

He cursed, and scooted away from her like she held a deadly disease. "You put your dirty mouth on mine!"

"You're welcome," she muttered.

"Next time, mudblood, let me die."

She glared, and he flinched as though she was going to hit him. "Fine," she snapped. "If that's the way you want it." She stood, and stormed off. If the squid got him again, so be it. That would be the last time she would ever save his life! Ungrateful, spoiled little ferret!


	3. Chapter 3

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Three

Not A Follower

Hermione didn't recall ever having the worst sleep as she did that night. It took her three hours to doze off, and even then she would wake up every five minutes. She would toss, and turn, and when she woke the next morning she found her covers in a heap beside her bed. At least that morning she woke up early enough not to have to rush breakfast.

Harry, and Ron met her down in the common room, and together they walked down to the Great Hall. She filled her plate with pancakes, and toast, and poured the pitcher of pumpkin juice in her golden goblet. Not once in her meal did she look over to the Slytherin table. She wasn't going to give Malfoy the satisfaction in suspecting that he bothered her, because he didn't, not in the bit. She pulled out a thick book from her book bag opening it to a random page next to her plate.

Hermione was very proud of her friends. They didn't mention Malfoy once. Though she was sure that they were discussing his demise between themselves, but that was perfectly okay by her. She didn't want to talk about him, because if the subject came up, she might also feel guilty long enough to tell them what happened out in the lake, and she wasn't ready for that. She might never tell them. One thing was sure to her though, Malfoy would be getting desperate to have her killed for saving his life. By doing a good deed she probably shortened her life span from a good week to... That day.

After breakfast she headed straight to the library. Harry, and Ron stood to follow her, but she insisted that she go along, and they graciously let her go. She knew better, she knew that they would be spying on her. She smiled to herself as she climbed the last of the stairs. They were wasting their times, Malfoy wouldn't attack her in the library.

She went to her usual table in the far corner away from the few older students delving themselves into mile high books. It wasn't like they were a bother, but she liked peace when she read, and she rarely got such in the common room, or any other place for that matter, not even in her bed thanks to Lavender, and the others barging in at random times even if she had gotten used to blocking out the world around her. She deserved some quiet.

Hermione pulled out six books from her bag, and sat them on the table. She picked up the first one, and began to lose herself in it. She was so lost in fact that she didn't hear a person approach her. As a shadow cascaded over her she snapped her head up to see Malfoy standing over her menacingly.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"  
Malfoy sat himself across from her. "To tell you that you're the filthiest, ugliest mudblood I've ever laid eyes on."

She laughed, and this took him off guard, he looked at her as if she had spoiled the ending to a good movie. "Right, is this supposed to be new? You've told me this a million times."

He brought himself out of his trance to sneer his usual sneer at her. "Look, Granger, I don't appreciate being saved by someone like you."

"I'm sure you don't."

He sighed, and Hermione glimpsed up to see the guards he kept up fall. It was only a second that she saw his vulnerability, and the walls were back up, and she turned her attention to her book. She was reading, but she wasn't comprehending any of the words. She was too aware of him being there, of him looking at her with those cold eyes of his.

He whispered so low that she wondered if he had spoken. "I'm supposed to kill you."

Painfully, she grinned. "I know..."

His expression fell. "What? How do you know?"  
"I overheard."

"Why you little -"

"Watch it, Malfoy! I could easily take another fifty points away from your house for harassing me. Don't push your luck."

Out of nowhere he smiled wide. He pushed himself back in his chairs balancing himself on the chairs last two legs. "You like me, don't you?"

Her face reddened with anger, and surprise. "I most certainly do not!"

"But you were spying on me -"

"I was going down to breakfast, and I accidentally heard you. It's not like you can keep that big mouth of yours shut."

His face darkened. "Breakfast had already started..." It was an accusation, that she had some inside sources. Yeah, right.

"I was late," she said simply.

"You're never late..."

"Do _you_ like me?"

"No! I would never like a -"

"Careful there! I was just asking because there's not a lot of enemies out there that would pay so close attention to someone's habits."

He looked over his shoulder at Ms. Pince that glared in their direction, with only a hint of curiosity at the two unlikely pair. He whispered, "only the enemies seeking revenge."

She nodded. She wasn't going to admit out loud that he was right. "But enemies don't normally tell theirs that they're going to kill them, do they?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Good one, Granger."

"Then why did you tell me?"

"A challenge. The whole hunter, and prey thing."

"The truth, Malfoy."

He leaned forward, his arms on the table. She felt that he was too close to her face, but something wouldn't allow her to say anything. She wanted to see where this was going.

"I_ can't_ kill you." Then he said hurriedly, "it's not that I don't want to. Believe me, I would love to rid the world of a sad excuse for a witch, but you had to save my life, didn't you? I have a fucking life debt to you now... I wanted to let you know that because you saved my life, we are both going to lose ours"

Hermione smiled sadly. "I would never hold you to something so beneath you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"You have no morals," she explained as if it were a simple case of one plus one.

Malfoy looked honestly offended. "I have morals, Granger. I was raised right!"

"That's why you're wanting to become a murderer."

He was stunned into silence. Hermione had had enough of circling the conversation of her death. She dumped her books into her bag, and swung it over her shoulder. He still didn't speak too interested in a burnt hole in the table. She left without him noticing.

Hermione was halfway down the hall on her way to her common room. Reading in the presence of Harry, and Ron didn't seem too bad then. Apparently they _didn't _ follow her, if they did they would have caught up with her by now.

Suddenly she was stopped when a hand landed roughly on her shoulder. Spinning on her heel she saw that it was Malfoy. The look on his face was indescribable. She wasn't sure if it was anger, sadness, regret, or remorse.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I know you don't want to die, Granger. I don't want to either." He sighed heavily, and then realized he was still holding her shoulder. He snatched his hand back. "We only have one choice now..."

"What would that be?"

"We work together," he grimaced as it was his worst nightmare, "and we get out of this mess."

Hermione held back the smirk that was threatening to cross her lips. "Okay... In that case we only have one other choice."

"Is that right?"  
"We go to Dumbledore, and you turn yourself in."

"No way! Not going to happen!"

"Then I guess we're both dead, aren't we?" Hermione spun her back towards him, and continued to walk down the hall, leaving Malfoy stunned again. She was beginning to be quite good at that lately.

"Alright," he called through the empty hall. "We'll go to Dumbledore..."

She stopped, and let herself smile before she turned to face him. "And why the sudden change of heart?"

"I was never meant to be a follower, Granger. Not even to the most feared wizard of all time. I much rather enjoy being the leader. We'll go to Dumbledore's office tonight. Think you can manage breaking the rules; sneaking through the castle, or are you too afraid that your perfect record will be tainted."

Hermione almost laughed. How many times had she wandered out of her common room without authorization. More times than Malfoy would ever guess. "Sure, I think I can do that, but what sense would it make when we can go right now?"

Malfoy marched up to her pulling on his right sleeve. He held his arm out in front of her for her to see. The dark mark, a skull, with a snake slithering through the mouth was branded on his skin. The brand of a deatheater. "I would never go to Dumbledore's office for any other reason. D'you think my mates will understand my disloyalty - I didn't think so!" He walked away from her, and yelled over his shoulder, "Twelve o'clock, Granger. If you're late I might _have_ to kill you."


	4. Chapter 4

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Four

Twelve O'clock

Hermione climbed into her bed, and pulled the drapes closed around her. Then, she pretended to sleep. Every few minutes she idly clicked the button on the side of her wristwatch, an aqua light flooding her. It was eleven forty five. She still had a while to wait.

_It could be a trap_, she thought. Maybe this was a grand scheme. Malfoy wasn't dumb, he could easily have come up with such a thing. Maybe right then he was laughing about it with his friends, talking about how he tricked Hermione Granger, the so-called greatest witch of the age, and how he was going to kill her. Nothing would stop him... Harry, and Ron knew nothing about what she was going to do. If they did, they wouldn't let her go.

When she had come back to the common room last night her friends were in the middle of a chess game, and she knew better than to try to disturb them. Harry had a hard enough time as it was beating Ron. If she so much as looked over their shoulders she would be blamed by the loser. It was a nice excuse not to speak with them. She could be as secretive as they come, but sometimes she wanted very badly to tell them everything. It was extremely hard in their third year, and Ron made it no easier questioning her whereabouts. It was like a weight off her shoulders when they learned the truth.

To avoid any confrontations she had gone to bed early, not bothering to slip on her pajamas. She went to bed in her school robe, with her wand securely in her pocket.

She found herself again, checking her watch. It was eleven fifty five. It was time that she left. Crookshanks stared up at her with yellow eyes curiously, but laid his head back down.

A Hogwarts History was one of her favorite books, and she was close to having it memorized. She repeated a few of the passages in her head while she stepped out of the portrait, and into the hall. She wanted to keep her mind off of Malfoy, and the possibility that she had been tricked. She didn't want to question why she was meeting him. She knew that if he didn't kill her now, he would kill her later. Better now, than later.

Hermione immediately saw Malfoy waiting by two gargoyle statues when she walked into the entrance hall. He leaned against the wall, his eyes down to his own watch. When she was several feet in front of him, he glanced up, and she thought she saw a flicker of a smirk. Her hand brushed against her pocket feeling her wand.

"Haven't changed your mind, have you, Malfoy?"

He snorted, "no, I said I would do it, and I will. I keep my word." She rolled her eyes as he looked away not seeing her. He stared at the statues expectantly. "Know the password?"

"Berry Bites," she said with her prefect knowledge. The two gargoyles jumped to the side, and the wall revealed a spiraling staircase that Hermione jumped on, Malfoy a few seconds late stepped beside her, and the staircase moved like a muggle escalator taking them up.

Hermione was starting to feel dizzy when it finally stopped, and they were in front of a large oak door. She felt a bit bad about knocking. She could only imagine Dumbledore fast asleep. It felt wrong to disturb him. He wasn't exactly young... He had a long white beard, half-moon spectacles, and a rather crooked nose that looked as if it had been broken a couple of times early in his life.

A few sharp knocks later the door opened, and Dumbledore stood there in a baby blue gown, and nightcap. He was clearly sleeping, but even when he was woken up he had the familiar twinkle in his eye, but he looked curiously down at the pair.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "I'm _really_ sorry about this Professor, we didn't mean to wake you, but Malfoy has something he would like to tell you."

"Miss Granger, if you didn't mean to wake me, you wouldn't have, but never mind that, never mind. Come on in, I'll put on a pot of tea."

Hermione, and Malfoy sat in two of the three comfy chairs by the fireplace that burst into life by Dumbledore's wand. The cold chamber started warming, and Hermione felt sleep creeping up on her, her eyes slowly closing until Malfoy painfully jabbed her in the arm. She sat straight up, giving him a short glare before taking the teacup in her hands.

After being served Dumbledore sat across from them, his elbows on the chair, his fingertips touching under his chin thoughtfully. "Who would like to go first," he asked softly.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Malfoy beat her to it. "Look, _sir_, I'm as Hermione calls it 'turning myself in.' So just get the Azkaban guards by owl, and let me get out of here."

Dumbledore's facial expression didn't change in the slightest. "Forgive me, but you are going to have to elaborate."

Hermione cut across Malfoy, and explained everything eagerly. She put aside what Malfoy had called her, and told the basics. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows as she told about what Voldemort wanted to have done.

"That is quite interesting, Miss Granger. Voldemort knows that you are the brains in what people call the golden trio. Very interesting indeed... Without you, they'd be lost, now wouldn't they?" He smiled kindly on her, and Hermione blushed with embarrassment.

Malfoy looked over at her disgusted. "Sir, here are the names..." He rattled of at least twenty names, and took a breath asking, "are you going to owl the guards, now?"

"No, Mr. Malfoy, I am not."  
"What?"

Dumbledore's eye twinkled again. "Granted, that you have been given the task of killing your fellow classmate, and you would not be here if it wasn't for something admirable she has done for you, a rightful enemy, but I will not be calling any guards. No, I have something else in mind."

Hermione swallowed. She had the feeling that this wasn't going to be good.

"You two will not like what I have to say, so be prepared. I'm going to put you into hiding. A secret location. I'll even be secret keeper myself."

Malfoy's face lit up, "that doesn't sound too bad."

"You will both be living together."

"What?!" Malfoy yelled, and jumped out of his seat. "I will not be living with a -"

Dumbledore held up a long slender finger for silence, and Malfoy quieted immediately, though the fire hadn't left his eyes. He waited impatiently.

"There will be no need for name calling, Mr. Malfoy. Believe me when I say I would not normally have put you two together, but this is a dire situation. You two are ultimately on Voldemort's list for death. It will be a waste of space to hide you two in separate houses, and this is a good opportunity... Two rival houses will have to learn to get along, and live with one another for peace to be achieved. Yes, if I do say so myself, I am brilliant."

Hermione felt herself pale at the thought. Living with Malfoy! Of all people... This had to be a dream. She was lacking sleep, she was tired, she would wake up in her bed, and laugh about it later with Harry, and Ron. Harry, and Ron... Her classes... Everything...

"Sir, what about -"

"No need to fret, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley will be notified of the situation. If you three wish to speak I'll be happy to be used as a medium.

As for your classes homework will be sent to you. We can't have your say perfect grades slipping, now."

Malfoy huffed quietly, as to which Dumbledore seemed to have gone deaf to. Dumbledore went over behind his desk, and took out a parchment, and an quill. He dipped it in a bottle of ink, and began writing. "You will stay here for an extra two hours until I set up a place for you to stay. If you may remain patient we will get this process started. Please, make yourselves comfortable, sleep if you like. I don't expect either of you have stayed in your dormitories long," a corner of his mouth upturned into a knowing smirk.

Hermione swallowed an inward groan threatening to climb her throat, and escape. She kicked off her shoes, and curled up in the chair. She didn't have to look over her shoulder to know that Malfoy was staring at her with distaste. She decided that this was the worst day of her life, even worse than when she found out that she was marked for death. Living with Malfoy felt like an underserved punishment. Uneasily she slipped into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Five

Muggle Town

"No, no, no! Send me to Azkaban! Send me back to the deatheaters for all I care, but I'm _not_ living here!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Dumbledore apparated them in front of a small, humble house that was two stories, and had a beautiful rose garden lining the front. But it wasn't the "cute" factor of the house that had Malfoy in such a foul mood. They were in a small Muggle town out in the middle of nowhere.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "You are allowed the great privilege of making your own choices. So choose wisely. You may stay here in the safety of a Muggle town, or you may make the choice of dying. Personally, I would enjoy having such an opportunity to live in such a nice place."

"_This_ is called 'nice'? It only has two floors!"

He looked down at him meaningfully, something mysterious behind those blue eyes shone. "Sometimes you have to look beyond what is obvious to see true beauty. What is your choice, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy sniffed indignantly, but stomped up the brick walkway to the front door. He wrenched it open, and disappeared inside. Hermione, and Dumbledore who looked pleased with himself stepped through.

They entered a quaint sitting room. There was a deep blue couch, two matching chairs, and a coffee table in the center. There was a fireplace on the opposite wall with a large bookcase beside it filled with lots of interesting books that Hermione made a note to return to later. To their right was a staircase, and in front of them was a door. It lead to a kitchen/dining room, and there was a patio door leading out to the backyard that she thought she would revisit later.

As they went back to the sitting room, Dumbledore made himself comfortable, and welcomed Hermione to check out the rest of the house while he rested. He looked a bit peaky, but she kept it to herself, and left him alone.

Hermione walked up the stairs, and saw a short hallway. To her left was a Slytherin bedroom. Everywhere there was green, and silver. To her right she spotted loads of red, and gold.

Inside her bedroom was a large bed, at least ten pillows, a dresser, a desk, and chair, and a window seat. She went straight towards the window, and peered out. It overlooked their backyard. There was a pond, and miles of an enclosing fence. She smiled wide, and thought hopefully. Perhaps Malfoy, and her could avoid each other successfully, and she could enjoy her time here.

She looked up, and noticed a door beside her desk. She poked her head in, and gasped. There was a large round tub with a spout that was the main for water, and the other five she knew was for different bubbles. At the base of the tub were an assortment of candles. There was a curtain, and a showerhead. A sink with a cabinet mirror above it. The whole room glittered white, and new. She was now sure that this stay wouldn't be so bad.

Hermione went downstairs, and sat that Malfoy had come back from his tour, and was sitting in a chair. She ignored him.

"The house is beautiful, Professor."

"I'm glad you like it."

"How long are we going to be stuck here," Malfoy asked rudely.

Dumbledore annoyingly pretended like he didn't hear. "I'm afraid to say that I don't know. Lets say that when Voldemort, and most of his followers are captured."

"That'll be forever!"

"We can never know. I apologize, but I must now be off. I entrust that you two will behave yourselves?"

Hermione nodded, "yes, sir."

"Suck up," Malfoy muttered.

Dumbledore nodded curtly back. "If you need me, owl me." And he left.

She felt a kind of hopelessness draw over her again, and she looked out the window to see if he had really gone. He had. She was now officially trapped in a house with her worst enemy. She turned around, and saw Malfoy stand from his slouched position in the chair. She didn't flinch as he stopped not a foot from her breathing his fresh breath on her forehead like he did at the lake before he was taken under. This time she could smell his musky cologne. It fogged her brain for a few moments, and she forgot whose scent she was inhaling. His drawling voice brought her back to reality, and she narrowed her brown eyes at him.

"We need to get some rules down here, _mudblood_. First of all, _never_, under any circumstances come into my room. Two; never touch my things. And for added measure, don't come near me." He strode over to the stairs, and ascended up them.

Hermione shot poisoned darts at him. How dare he accuse that she would ever go into his room, like she would want to! Like she would ever touch his grimy things. She let the anger pour over her, and followed him to the top of the steps, and grabbed his arm forcing him to look at her. She was pleased to see that he looked scared.

"Listen here, _ferret_, I would never go into your room, I would never touch your disgusting things, and I would never want to come near you. And here are _my_ rules. One; don't come into _my_ room, two; don't touch _my_ things, and under no circumstances are you to come near _me_."

He snarled at her. "I think you're breaking rule three there, Granger." He jerked his head at his arm that she still held. She pulled her hand back quickly, and he laughed that sounded almost forced, and slammed the door to his room.

_Off to a great start,_ Hermione thought sarcastically, and slammed the door to her own room. Now she would go into that bubble bath she had been tempted to take since she first saw the large porcelain tub.

Once in the bathroom she locked the door. Just in case. She turned on scolding hot water, and pressed one of the spouts for large blue bubbles the size of her head. With the tip of her wand she lighted the candles on the floor. She grinned at her work, and shed her clothing. Once in she sighed deeply the heat of the water relaxing her muscles turning her red. She could see on her shoulder that the steam was curling up from her skin. With the tip of her finger she popped the largest bubble.

An hour later Hermione was stepping out of the tub wrapping a fluffy white towel around her, a small puddle growing at her feet. She smelled lovely, like blueberries. Her room was darker than it was when she left it. Night was falling quickly over the sky, and she thought of the backyard she still had to visit. Seeing it through her window wasn't enough.

She slipped on boxers, and a halter top, pulling her bushy hair into a clip, a few curly tendrils falling around her face. She hopped down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Malfoy was at the table with a steaming mug of some concoction. He glowered at her as if daring her to say a word to him. She decided to pretend he wasn't there, as far as she was concerned that table was vacant.

Hermione felt the light breeze across her still hot skin. The patio was wooden, and painted white like the bricks of the house. There was an outdoor loveseat that she sat on. She looked over to the pond, her feet swinging not long enough to touch the patio floor. She watched the wind create gentle ripples across its surface. Night had completely covered the sky when she decided to go in. Malfoy had left the kitchen, and before she went into her room she took note that the door to his room was closed. _Good,_ she thought, _he's keeping out of my way._


	6. Chapter 6

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Six

Malfoy's Pages

Seven in the morning Hermione stretched across her bed yawning, but awake. She half expected to wake up in her dormitory room with the other girls. She was alone. It felt strange waking up in someplace new. In the first few seconds she forgot how she got there, and then she remembered. Dread filled her. She set a task for that day, and it was to avoid Malfoy at all costs.

Normally Crookshanks would now be scurrying around the room after a stray mouse, but he wasn't there, she had sent him to live with her parents. She was grateful they didn't ask many questions, she didn't have an answer prepared to why she was sending him off. They didn't know she was in hiding. The only reason she sent Crookshanks off is because she didn't know how Malfoy would handle cats. Especially her cat.

It was Saturday, that meant no classes, and no homework. Unlike any normal student this didn't make her happy especially being in the situation she was in now. She wanted to do something to keep her mind off of who she was sharing quarters with. Then she thought of the bookshelf in the sitting room. After breakfast she would get started on going through it.

In the kitchen Malfoy sat in the same seat he did yesterday with the Dailey prophet in one hand, and in front of him a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and a glass of orange juice. He wore only boxers, his chest bare, and his hair looked as if it hadn't been brushed, it was sticking up in odd places. She was about to leave when he called out.

"I don't mean to break the rules here, but there's some still on the stove if you're hungry."

She looked curiously at him, and though he didn't look up, he must have sensed this.

"I'm only offering because I can't eat it all."

Hermione chose to ignore this last comment, and helped herself. A part of her that would be called pride didn't like taking Malfoy's food, but she didn't like waste, and she was hungry. Her stomach won over in the very short debate. When she settled at the table with her plate, and glass of milk did she think that she might enjoy a meal in peace. Then Malfoy spoke again.

"Don't get used to this, mudblood."

She didn't give him the pleasure of responding. She took a bite of toast to keep herself from retorting back. She ate quickly, rinsed her dishes setting them in the sink, and hurried to the sitting room. She took a random book from the shelf, and settled herself on the couch, her legs draped over the arm of it, and began reading immersing herself so much in the world that she didn't hear Malfoy walk through the sitting room, and leave upstairs, nor would she care.

Hermione left her position on the couch once for supper. Malfoy never came down, and she kept to their rule that they were not to speak, and fixed a peanut butter sandwich. She ate quickly in order to get back to her book where she left off at a climax. She had to know what happened. And so the next time she put her book down the sun had vanished under the horizon.

She rubbed her tired eyes, and thought suddenly of her journal. She had never unpacked it. She had lost the desire to write in it lately, she didn't feel the need to depress herself further by writing that a classmate planned to kill her, but now that it had changed, for the moment, she would begin writing in it again.

She reached for her wand next to her. She kept it close to her at all times since she overheard the conversation that pronounced her supposed fate. She rose it in the air, and said the incantation, "accio journal!"

Soon a black bound leather book flew at her. She was confused, her journal was brown, and soft felt. She had no idea what book this was. She looked at the back, and saw in emerald words "Draco M." Her eyes widened. She had Malfoy's journal!

Hermione ran her fingers along the spine. She shouldn't read it. It was private. She was already breaking the rules by simply having it in her hands. She was all about morals, she inflicted them upon others. She breathed. If she only took a peak, maybe should could understand her new roommate better. But why would she want to? Already she was gaining a headache by the insisting ping pong war in her head. Curiosity got the best of her, and she opened it up.

_1/9/91_

_Mum says that I have to keep this journal... I am not sure why... But I'm an obedient son, and will do as I'm told._

_Today was my first day as a Hogwarts student. It was a bit frightening to be honest, but the hat barely touched my head when it sorted me into Slytherin. Father is going to be so proud, when I arrived in my common room (hauntingly glorious as father told me it would be) I owled him. I am determined to make him proud. I will be the best son there is._

_Crabb, and Goyle were also sorted into my house. Bunch of dunderheads if you ask me, but I suppose they'll be worthy to flank me in my years here. For now, I'll have to find a safe place for this journal... I think the loose floorboard I found underneath my bed would be a suitable place._

Even from the beginning he was arrogant. Hermione turned a page, and read on reading only where her, Harry, or Ron was mentioned.

_10/9/91_

_This Granger girl... Bushy haired, know-it-all, all the teachers favorite. School has hardly started, and she has them wrapped around her finger. Her, the Potter, and Weasel... They'll meet their end one day..._

Hermione could have burned holes in the paper with her eyes. He really did hate her from the start. She skipped some pages.

_25/12/91_

_I'm home for the holiday. Christmas was as usual wonderful. Tons of gifts, a huge dinner that I am still stuffed by. Yet my parents barely speak, and when they do the only ask to pass the salt. Sometimes my father will go into a rant about work, about Weasley._

_In truth I have to remain tough, my father expects me to be so. Since this is my journal, perhaps I can release some feelings that I would normally cringe upon. I don't care for the presents, or the big dinner. What I want is for my parents to speak, and talk to me as if I'm not another heir to the Malfoy fortune._

He had feelings...? She flipped through some more pages.

_5/9/92_

_As I have mentioned my father bought the Slytherin Quidditch team the best brooms in the world, Nimbus 2001! I was immediately offered a place on the team, of course. Anything to beat Potter, but today had its other perks; Weasel cursed himself today. Granger had been inexplicable, and dared to say my father had bought my way in. I called her the only thing I could think of at the time: a mudblood. Weasel thought he was going to use his Gryffindor courage to hex me. Didn't have to lift a finger to watch him fly across the Quidditch field. Only someone with fluff for brains would use a broken wand. Today was a good day._

Hermione gritted her teeth remembering that day. It took half the day for Ron to stop coughing up slugs. She skipped some more pages.

_13/12/92_

_Soon the school will be rid of those mudblood, and mudblood lovers like. If the Slytherin Heir keeps this up Slytherin's will be the only ones left. Next year will be wonderful without all the fawning over Potter, and his stupid friends._

She flips through again.

_11/6/93_

_I am home, and the mansion is quite lonely. I never get the greeting I hope for when I exit out of the train. I would never hope for such affection if I haven't seen it given to the other kids. Their parents hug, and kiss them enthustically. They act embarrassed, I would be proud. Unfortunately those actions are wrong. "We are Malfoy's, we are proud," so says my father in a different definition of pride._

This was a new side to Malfoy. She started to turn the page, but heard a noise from upstairs. She snapped the book closed, jumped up, and ran upstairs as a rush of fears did their own running through her head. Deatheaters, Voldemort, being found, captured, killed. She checked her room, and her bathroom, wand tightly in her hand, but no one was there. Without thinking she dashed to Malfoy's door. Without knocking she opened it, and saw him crouched by the nightstand, surrounded by glass, his hand bleeding.

Hermione threw the journal that she hid behind her back to the side, and went to kneel beside him. "What happened?"

"Get out," he snarled at her clutching his bleeding hand.

"Mal-"

"Get out!"

"I can -"  
"Don't make me hex you, Granger!"

Hermione kept to her ground. She stared at the blood that was dripping onto the floor. He was clad in only his boxers like he was at breakfast. His wand didn't appear to be on him. She said, "go ahead, then."

"What? You want me to hex you?"

She smirked. "Where's your wand?"

It was dark, but she could see him blush. Another new side to Malfoy. He blushed with embarrassment, and stood over her expecting to scare her. "I don't see where that's any of your business, mudblood. Are you forgetting the rules? You're breaking all of them." He crossed his arms over his chest blood being smeared on his torso.

Hermione looked him over. He was thin, but not sickeningly so. He was fit like most Quidditch players were. She looked away uncomfortable with their position, and she got to her feet. She knew she was blushing furiously too. She forced herself to look him in his cold gray eyes. "I just thought I could help is all."

"I don't need any mudbloods help -"

"A new rule, Malfoy. You call me that word again, and you'll be the one that's murdered." She walked out shutting the door behind her, not taking in his reaction. She picked up his journal that she left on the floor, and took it to her room. She couldn't believe that she was starting to consider him having a heart, but why would he lie in a journal?

She closed her door, and on her bed she fell on her back, his journal, and her wand in her hands. She did break all the rules that day.


	7. Chapter 7

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Seven

The Slytherin Prince, and the Gryffindor Bookworm

Every night for the next week when Hermione was sure that Malfoy was fast asleep she performed the same spell that caused his journal to fly into her hands. Every night in her room she would read his journal, and when she was near sleep she casted another spell to send the journal back to it's original place.

This routine didn't go without guilt. Hermione felt extremely guilty, it ate at her, but it satisfied her. It quenched a thirst she didn't know she had. She wanted to know more about Malfoy, and gradually she was learning about him. His growing resentment towards his own blood, and his hatred for who he had became. It was enlightening, and she desperately wanted to tell Harry, and Ron, but it wouldn't have been fair. It was bad enough that she was reading it without permission. She couldn't forgive herself if she handed over his guarded feelings to other people he hated just as much.

It was once again night, and she cuddled underneath the covers with one of her many pillows. She picked up where she left off the night before, looking out for her name, and her friends.

_1/9/93_

_Dementors came onto the train today. I thought things that I thought I buried deep, so deep that not even a dementor could dig them up, but I was wrong. I remembered when my father became angry; he hit my mother across her jaw. The bruise was there for weeks. I remembered when I was five, and I fell off my toy broomstick, and skinned my knee. I cried, but my father told me to grow up, and take the pain like a real boy. I've never cried in front of him since. I remembered a lot of things... Now I can't forget them._

_2/9/93_

_I couldn't sleep last night. I wonder if I ever will. Dementors, they're all around the school keeping a watch out for Sirius Black... My father supports these creatures? How can someone support something so vicious? What does my father feel when he's near them? I'm a horrible son, sometimes I wonder if he has a heart._

She skipped pages, feeling a bit better about not reading his journal word per word.

_26/4/94_

_That dirty, unworthy, mudblood smacked me! Me! I'll get that jumped up mudblood one day. It'll come to her._

She flips again.

_2/9/94_

_A ferret... That old, indespicable professor turned me into a ferret. My father should have been furious. I wrote to him, but I all I was told that there was nothing could be done. Quite contradictory considering it's the opposite of what I've been told while growing up._

Turns more pages.

_8/11/94_

_Was in a fight with Potter in the hall today. Our spells deflected. Lets just say that Goyle is in the hospital wing for the night, and Granger, well that was funny. Her teeth grew past her chin! Consider it payment for her hitting me last year, not to mention being a mudblood._

_10/11/94_

_Passed Granger in the hallway today. She was smiling, and her teeth looked... Normal. I suppose her looking that decent was my fault..._

Decent eh? She laughed, and stifled it with her hand cupping her mouth. She flipped through more pages, not seeing her name. Then...

_25/12/94_

_It was the Yule ball tonight, my feet hurt, and I hate to admit that Granger looked... Beautiful. It's only here that I can admit this. She looked stunning, not at all her usual bushy haired self. Not once did I think her a mudblood. My father would be ashamed at the thoughts I'm having towards her, but he'll never find out, and neither will anyone else. We can all hope for something else, or someone else, right? I can dream that I don't care about blood status. It is only when those dreams come true that I'm in trouble._

Hermione's hand dropped from her gaping mouth. Beautiful? No one aside from Krum, (the Bulgarian Quidditch star that she went to the ball with) had ever called her that before. It was touching to say the least, but she read on pretending that she hadn't been effected. She was sure he would take it back in a page or two.

_30/12/94_

_The Yule Ball is over. Granger is back to looking like her usual self, so I should be back to my usual thoughts. Then why is it that I'm not? These feelings, they're only temporary. This will all go away, and soon I'll go back to hating her._

Her hand shook as she skipped some pages. He would take it back, she knew he would. It was only passing thoughts.

_5/3/95_

_I heard from a couple of Slytherin girls at breakfast about the article Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly about Hermione. What Skeeter says is always a lie, but I can't help but look over to the Gryffindor table. She looked so upset. A part of me, a very small insignificant part wants to comfort her. I have to banish these thoughts, and feelings. This girl's put a spell over me._

_24/6/95_

_I heard Granger caught Skeeter in a jar. Can't deny it... The girl has guts, brains, and beauty. If only she was a pureblood, a Slytherin. If only I wasn't one..._

She skipped pages again.

_1/9/95_

_The blood on Potter's face was satisfying, hearing the crunch of bones beneath my shoes..._

She felt sickened... She skipped through the rest.

_20/7/96_

_A secret: I don't want to be a deatheater. After all these years, seeing how other parents treat their children with such care... I don't want to be my father anymore, I want my own life. However, I do not have a choice. I couldn't fight my father, and hear him disclaim me from the family. So I went with him, I met Voldemort, and I was branded like a cow... I'm now a deatheater, and my task is to kill Granger. I'm not sure if I can do this, but I have no choice... I have to. I have to live up the expectations that was given to me at birth._

"Oh... Malfoy..." She breathed, the ache she was feeling for him filled her.

_10/9/96_

_When I saw Granger in breakfast I imagined pointing my wand at her, and yelling the curse that would end her life. I couldn't imagine it, and when I tried too hard it hurt. I realize that I'll have to do this when her back is turned so I won't have to see her face, those caramel eyes. How I'm going to manage that it undecided. In the end she is still a mudblood. I'll still have to kill her._

_14/9/96_

_I hate my life. I hate the way I've grown up around hatred. The dark mark on my arm is like a constant sore. It never stops hurting, it's almost blinding, and worse yet spitting out the word mudblood to her doesn't have the same satisfaction... It feels... Wrong. I'm bringing shame to my whole family without them knowing, but when I kill Granger I think it'll get easier. I don't understand why I was assigned to her. Why couldn't it have been Potter, or Weasel? Why her?_

_15/9/96_

_I was down at the lake tonight. Simply thinking about my plans for Granger when she showed up. I put on my mask, my act, and because of my hatred I almost died tonight. I was pulled into the lake by that wretched squid. I still have water in my ears, and Granger's lavender scent on my clothes. I have tortured this girl since the beginning of school, and yet... She saved my life. I don't know why, and I want desperately to ask her, but what kind of person would that make me? Kind? I wasn't raised to be that way._

_16/9/96_

_It all became clear when I woke. I can't kill her. I won't. She thinks I have no morals, but I do. I'll show her I do. I agreed to give myself over to Dumbledore. I'm going to Azkaban, and if this is the last thing I write... Well, it won't matter, no one will ever read this, possibly a future Slytherin. I will give some advice then: Follow what your gut tells you, and you won't end up like me full of regrets, and hate._

_17/9/96_

_That old man didn't send me to Azkaban after all (obviously I'm writing in here). He did something much worse. I have to live with Granger in a Muggle town. I have to keep this act of mine up for however long it will take for Voldemort, and his followers to be caught. I'll be here forever, and this girl has guts... I called her names, I was rude, I was everything I was raised to be at the moment I told her the rules of the house, and you know what she did? She grabbed my arm in a remarkable strength, and told me what the rules were. I can still feel her hand on my arm. I think there's a bruise..._

_What's worse? I'm right across the hall from her. I'm only a couple of walls from being near her. Nothing can hurt so much._

_What's wrong with me? I'm tainting my status. She's below me. Yet... Everyday it seems to matter less. My father isn't here to corrupt me anymore, I have to make my own choices... What if I choose to be who I think I am?_

Hermione set the journal down beside her. Her room was blurred in front of her by hot tears. They spilled down her cheeks. Slowly, but surely Malfoy was changing, and she felt bad for him. She never knew his story, never cared, and she didn't blame herself for that. No, she only blamed the wizarding world for putting so much emphasis on status. If there was no such thing, would Malfoy, and her be... No, no, it couldn't happen.

With a flick of her wand she sent his journal off. She would forget what she had read, and she would sleep. Tomorrow would be another day living with Malfoy, and she couldn't show weakness. He was still Malfoy the Slytherin Prince, just like she was still Granger the Gryffindor Bookworm.


	8. Chapter 8

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Eight

Sweet Revere

For another week they were abiding by their rules, but at breakfast time Hermione couldn't help but look over at him. Then the morning came when she was going to take the first step at reconciliation. Reading his journal she was thinking it would be a possibility they could be on civil terms.

She set her alarm at five in the morning, an hour before Malfoy would wake, and she tiptoed down to the kitchen, and began cooking. She had never been an exceptional chef, but everything was edible.

She was stacking the pancakes when Malfoy came in stumbling into his usual chair. She set a plate of pancakes, toast, butter, syrup, and whip cream in front of him without a word. Suspiciously he stared down at it. She turned away from him, and set to work with her own breakfast.

"Granger..."

"Hm?"

"What's this?"

"It's food, Malfoy."

"Are you trying to poison me?"

"No, I just had some leftovers, and I didn't want it to go to waste," she said simply, sitting across from him with her bowl of cereal. She smiled at him, and waited for the accusations to fly at her, but none came, he stabbed a fork into the pancakes, and they ate in silence.

Minutes later Hermione dumped the dishes into the sink, and went to walk out the backdoor when Malfoy called again.

"Where're you going?"  
She smirked, and wiped it off her face quickly before she faced him. "Malfoy, I let you off the hook earlier for talking to me, but now you're going overboard. Don't forget our rules," and she walked outside.

It was nearing October, and the air was chilly, but she was determined to make use of the pond before it became too cold. She walked on the ground barefoot, the grass sticking between her toes, the morning dew leaving her feet damp. At the ponds edge she stripped off her clothes revealing a two piece yellow bathing suit. Hermione dipped her toe in causing ripples to work their way outward. The weather was cool, but the water was warmed by the sun. She jumped in.

Resurfacing to the top she started making two laps, and then floated on her back enjoying the feel of the sun beating down on her. Hermione thought of the hot bath she would take afterwards, and the book she would cuddle up with on the couch while she waited for her homework to appear on its designation, the coffee table.

It was ten at night when Hermione put the final touches on her Charms homework. She re-read it three times, and made minor changes until she was satisfied. She sat it aside with the other piles of parchments, and saw the envelope she had pushed back. Homework came first. She pulled it towards her, and ripped it open. She smiled wide.

_Hermione,_

_Are you okay? Is Malfoy treating you alright? We can't believe this is happening. How can Dumbledore force you to live with him? We miss you loads. Ron misses you more than he likes to admit, but you know how he is. We wish you were here. Not only because we think that we're failing Astronomy, but it's lonely without you... Encouraging us. We love you._

_Harry_

Hermione felt that her day had brightened significantly, even though she knew that "encouraging," was code for nagging. She immediately took out extra parchment from her backpack, and dipped her quill in the ink bottle.

_Harry,_

_I miss you too! I'm just fine. Malfoy, and I have come to an agreement to pretend that the other doesn't exist. It's working, but I admit it's quite lonely here. I miss "encouraging," you. You wouldn't have any trouble with Astronomy if you kept notes like I do. Dumbledore is only doing what he thinks is best, you know that. Don't worry about me. I love you two.  
_

_With Love, Hermione_

She wrote it quickly, and blew softly on the wet ink before placing it into an envelope. She sat it with her homework for Dumbledore to pick up. She didn't know when he dropped by, but she knew he did.

Hermione leaned back onto the couch feeling very pleased with herself. It felt so wonderful completing her school work. She thought she should award herself, she felt particularly good about her Potions essay. At least now she did, soon she would start doubting her work, she always did. She decided to take her mind off of it. She raised her wand. "Accio journal."

She caught the flying book with such speed it would make Harry proud. She opened it propping it against her knee. He heart thrummed faster against her chest when she saw that he wrote.

_23/9/96_

_Ever seen someone so beautiful they took your breath away? I did. Today. And it all started with something out of the ordinary. Granger cooked me breakfast. She repeated what I said when I did the same thing for her weeks ago. "Leftovers..." I would have sworn that she was poising me if it weren't for the look she gave me... It was like she was seeing something, that she knew something about me, but she knows nothing... Then she left, and out of my own cursed curiousity I followed her out into the backyard. When she was at the pond I hid under the stairs, and I watched as she undressed. I'm not a pervert, she had a bathing suit, but it showed off her stomach, and back. Her legs were longer than I would have imagined. For a bookworm she had sun kissed skin. Kissable skin... In the world I would create it would be sweet revere being there with her. It's not fair that we were born to hate each other. I'm losing it..._

Hermione blushed deeply, her face was as red as lava. Kissable? He made her sound... Amazing. She breathed deeply. In normal circumstances she would be angry that he had spied on her, but she wasn't. What he wrote made up for it, but she shook her head at this thought. He was still Malfoy, her best friends enemy. He was supposed to be hers too.

She sent the book magically back. She wouldn't think of Malfoy anymore that night. She was done. She couldn't be having these feelings, whatever feelings they were.

She was very tired, she didn't feel like going up to her room. It wouldn't be so bad sleeping on the couch for a short nap. She curled up in the corner. She didn't wake up once that night.


	9. Chapter 9

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Nine

Colliding

Hermione woke, and stretched. She felt smooth materiel glide over her arms, and legs. There was a green, and silver blanket over her. She saw a printed snake on it. It was a Slytherin blanket. Malfoy must have come down for a drink sometime in the night, and covered her. A warmness washed over at her at the thought. He was a Malfoy, but he at least deserved a thank you for doing something sweet, something so unlike him.

Jumping up from the couch, she jogged up the stairs. At the top step she collided with something solid, and fell backwards feeling the awful tug at the pit of her stomach that a person always felt when they were suddenly falling. She knew that she was going to hurt herself, possibly break her neck, but a hand gruffly snatched her upper arm keeping her leaned back over the stairs.

Panicked Hermione looked at the owner of the hand, and saw the only other person it could be. A very calm Malfoy, the fringe of his platinum hair into his eyes that were no longer cold, but worrying. For a moment she thought he was going to drop her, but he pulled her to his chest. She let out the breath she was holding.

"Thank you," she gasped looking up into his unchanging expression.

"...You're welcome."

In moments Hermione's relief passed, and she took in their position. Malfoy still clung to her arm, and she was still pressed against him inhaling his intoxicating scent.

They weren't in a library, or any place that would require quiet, but she whispered anyhow. "Malfoy..."

"Yes?"

"I think we're, um, breaking the rules..."

Softly he laughed. "Granger, rules were made to be broken..."

Before she could utter a sound his mouth collided with hers, rough, and filled with need. His hand tangled itself in her hair, while the other gripped her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving in. The rough kiss turned to gentle, and passionate. He moaned when her fingers trailed the back of his neck. It was like a wave crashing her down into oblivion. She lost herself as his tongue caressed hers.

As soon as it begun it ended, they stood apart at opposite ends of the hallway abruptly aware of who they were kissing. Their eyes were glazed over, and Hermione's heart sunk as she watched Malfoy shake his head, touching his lips thoughtfully, then his eyes grew cold.

"Look, Granger, this didn't mean anything. It didn't even happen. You're still a mudblood. I'm too good for you." He ambled back to his room, but he couldn't shut the door because Hermione had lodged her foot in the way.

Blood was pounding in her head, she could feel herself go scarlet. "No, you look Malfoy. I would have broken my neck on those stairs; you saved my life. We're now even."

"So, what's your point," he snarled.

"Don't feel bad about killing me. Next time you can shove me down those stairs with a clear conscious, that is if you had any!" She stomped to her room, and slammed her door. She leaned against it, and cried. She felt disloyal, and immoral. Harry, and Ron would have a fit if they knew what just happened. They would never forgive her.

She fell on her bed clutching a pillow to her chest, and cried herself to sleep.

It was late. That was all Hermione knew. She had woken in a cold, wet spot on her pillow. The memories of what happened flooded her, and she was near tears again. She sat up, hugging her knees to her chest.

Malfoy had let down his guards for what she could only assume was hours ago. How did he feel? There was only one way to find out. She cleared her throat, and hoping that he was asleep, called out quietly, "accio journal."

She dabbed her eyes on her sleeve, and focused her eyes on the next page.

_24/9/96_

_She was so sweet lying there asleep on the couch. Beautiful, innocent, blissfully unaware of me. She was curled up like she was cold, and I covered her in my Slytherin blanket. She looked so good, I wanted to stay there all night, and watch her sleep, but I feared I would scare her if she woke._

_Then this morning I kissed her. I intended to kiss her. It was purposeful, and I loved it. It felt wonderful, her lips soft, and tasted of strawberry's. I dreamed it for so long, and when it came true I acted like a bloody moron. I pulled away from her, I called her a mudblood. I told her that it never happened, and I was too good for her. It's not true, quite opposite, really. Then she said something that tore my heart from my chest. She told me that we were even, that I could kill her. I don't want to kill her. It's not that I don't have the guts, it's because I don't have the heart. She has it as corny as that sounds._

_I'm no longer who I strived to be. It has nothing to do with her, but with me. I can't live to my father's expectations anymore, it almost cost my life to do it for as long as I have. It's over. I give up the fortune, my blood status, I give up everything. With, or without her, I'm starting over._

Hermione gingerly touched the words on the page as if not really believing them. There was no reason in the world why Malfoy would lie in his journal. She glimpsed over at her cracked door. She set the book down, and with quiet steps walked across the hall to Malfoy's door. She contemplated on knocking, but decided against it.

The room held exaggerated shadows. She saw a lump under the covers of the four poster bed. Beside it she could see his wand on his nightstand. She understood about keeping the wand so near, but it did little good if he was this heavy of a sleeper. She sat on the bed, and leaned over his figure, sweeping the hair from his eyes. Hermione pulled her hand back. It was too intimate, it was going over the line, being in his room, touching him like that. She went to stand, but halfway up she felt a hand grasp her wrist tugging her down.

Malfoy gazed at her through clear eyes expectantly.

"I'm sorry," she said, but he didn't let her go, and she felt fear grip her. That is until he jerked her to him, pressing his lips to hers for a second.

"No, I am... Have you been crying?"

"No," she said defensively.

"You have... Granger, I'm sorry, I didn't mean -"

"Who said it had anything to do with you? I miss school is all." It wasn't a total lie, and Malfoy didn't call her on it, but she gave herself away. Tears brimmed her eyes again. "It's not you," she insisted.

He nodded, and sat up taking her in his arms. She laid against his bare chest, and cried. His arms tightened as he stroked her hair. He whispered in her hair, "I'll never call you that again... From now on I'll make things easier on you. We'll start over. Promise."

"It's not that easy."

"You're right, it's not, but we're both stubborn people, and we'll make it easy. Please, Granger, give me a chance to right everything I've done wrong."

"We don't live that long..."

He chuckled, "let me try." He pulled the blankets over her.

Hermione nodded, "okay," and she dozed off asleep in his arms with the last thought that one day, one action, it could change everything.


	10. Chapter 10

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Ten

Who Knew

The morning announced an official new start. Hermione smiled when she woke, but frowned when she found that Malfoy wasn't beside her. She looked around the Slytherin room, but he was nowhere to be seen.

She went into the kitchen, and saw a blonde boy in boxers over the stove, the sweet aroma of bacon, and cheese reached her. He turned when she walked in, and grinned. "Morning."

Hermione felt her heart soar. He wasn't angry with her. She stood next to him watching the omelets sizzle in the frying pan. "When did you learn to cook?"

"During the summer my parents would often go on these long trips to Europe. If you haven't noticed I'm a proud individual, and don't like everything being done for me. My houselves were kept to secrecy when I cooked my meals during those times. It didn't make the elves happy. They didn't like me too well."

Hermione's smile grew. He didn't like houselves doing all his dirty work. It was the best thing he could have ever said to her. She stood on tiptoe kissing him on the cheek.

"I suppose this means that our rules are invalid," he commented slyly. He slid the omelets onto two plates. "I have some plans for us today."

"Really," she asked intrigued taking a plate from him.

"We've been here for weeks, and haven't seen the town. Thought you could show me around?"

It was hard to believe that the guy before her was Malfoy. "You do know that it's a Muggle town, right?"

"Of course." He looked at her intently. "Granger, I swear to you, who I've been these past sixteen years is my father. I tried to be him, but I know I'm not. I'm trying here."

Hermione would have never believed him if it wasn't for his eyes. For as long as she had known him, since they were eleven, he had gray eyes that reminded her of steel. Cold, and impenetrable. Now his eyes were similar to a stormy sky. They held promise, and renewal.

"We'll go after breakfast."

They walked on the sidewalk past a line of neighboring houses until they reached the corner. They walked in silenced. Hermione almost expected for him to take her hand, but he walked with his hands in his pockets. She shrugged it off, and they took a right.

Hermione remembered Dumbledore telling her that there were shop nearby, and he was right. They took a left at the next corner, and was greeted by a long street packed with modest shops.

They spent the day going into each one. Malfoy was fascinated by an electronics store. He almost yelled when he saw "boxes with people trapped inside." Hermione did a lot of explaining that day, but it was worth it to witness his reactions to everything that was new to him. He once said, "and they do all this _without_ magic?!" She couldn't recall having so much fun with someone.

As dusk started to drape over the sky they went for dinner at a cafe. There was a coolness in the air threatening to chill, but they ate outside anyway. They talked of school, childhood memories, likes, and dislikes. At one point she forgot that she was talking with her enemy turned friend, and she couldn't help but think of all the years they lost hating each other when it could have been like this all along.

The moon was above them as they made their way back home. Malfoy's hand brushed across hers, and he took it in his. Hermione suppressed a smile. She could hear Malfoy took a breath before he spoke, carefully as if he was afraid of the words coming out of his mouth.

"So... Does this count as a date?"

"Lets see... We went out, we had dinner, talked, and laughed, had a good time. Yes, I think this would count as a date. Why?"  
He shrugged. "I can say this is my first Muggle date."

"Would you?"

"Yes."

When they reached the front door he stopped her pressing his hands on her shoulders. "Let me kiss you?"

She beamed, and he bent grazing his lips over hers. When he tried to deepen it she stepped back. "I'm going to go to bed."

"Mine, or yours?"  
Hermione glared at him warningly. "Mine. This is still new -"

"And you don't trust me." It wasn't an accusation, but a statement.

"Yeah... Lets take it slow, Malfoy."

"Okay," he agreed with only slight disappointment in his tone, and it appeared as if he remembered something. "Hey, we snogged, had our first date, are we ever going to call each other by our first names? I think we're at least at _that_ point."

Hermione bit her lip thinking. "I think we are too, Draco," the name a little foreign on her lips.

"Right, Hermione." The name rolled off his tongue in the sweetest way it sent chills down her spine.

They each went into their separate rooms without a backward glance. It would make it harder otherwise. Hermione spent the next hour in the bath idling away time with giant purple bubbles. She stepped out, dried herself, and slowly dressed. _He should be asleep now,_ she thought.

She walked carefully across the hall to his door. She pressed her ear against it listening for deep breathing, maybe snoring. There was a light snore. She twisted the knob, and pushed it open gently being certain to not make any noise. She whispered the spell, and caught the flying journal, and went back to her room.

_25/9/96_

_My father would be disappointed. I should now officially consider myself cut from the family fortune, and the family for that matter. I'm dating Granger. Today was the best day of my life. I spent it all with her. I never had so much fun._

_I went to my first Muggle shop. Father was wrong. Muggles are smart. Granger should be proof enough, but the gadgets they have... I could never imagine my life without magic, but they get along well._

Hermione sighed happily. Malfoy, a good guy... Who knew?


	11. Chapter 11

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Eleven

Giving It All Up

The next morning Hermione walked to the kitchen as per usual. Only this time she had fluttering butterflies in her stomach. She smelled... Cinnamon, Malfoy reading the directions to the waffle maker. He was fully dressed in jeans, and a tee.

"What're you cooking?"

"Waffles... You have a letter over there," Draco jerked his head to the table. "I thought we'd go by that Muggle bookstore again today. There was a book that I saw..."

Hermione dropped into a chair ripping the envelope with her name scrawled on it. She smoothed out the parchment, and read:

_Hermione,_

_Not worrying about you is easier said than done. We think about you everyday. We're afraid what Malfoy may have up his sleeve. He can't be trusted. Please let us know if he tries anything, and we'll personally make sure that you're out of there as soon as possible. Ron says, "he won't have to worry about Voldemort, I'll kill him myself." Write us twice a week to let us know you're okay. We're working on ridding Voldemort. You'll be out of there in no time. You'll never have to worry about Malfoy._

_Harry_

Guilt washed over her. She was betraying her friends. Harry, and Ron we're worrying about her, and here she was having a great time. She wanted to be at school, she wanted Voldemort vanquished, but it all meant that it would be the end of her newfound relationship. How could she have not seen it before? They didn't stand a chance, once they were at school they would go back to the way they were. Draco would remember his blood status, and would go back to hating her. He was a Slytherin, and those kind of love stories didn't happen in real life. They weren't living in a fairy tale.

"Hermione, you alright?"

She snapped out of her thoughts abruptly. "Yeah, fine."

Draco sat a plate in front of her, but she didn't feel hungry anymore. She pushed it away from her. "Something's bothering you. What is it?"

"Nothing," she clutched the letter in her hand, but Draco snatched it holding it out of her reach reading it. She felt dread as his eyes roved over the page, his face falling. She leapt over the table her hand out for it, but he made a jerky movement staring at her as if she did something wrong.

"This doesn't look like _nothing_. So this is how you feel about me?"

"No!" Hermione said at once. "Draco, no. The last time I wrote them we weren't speaking."

"Then what has you upset?" He lit up with understanding. "You're worried about what your friends will think when you tell them. Oh, sorry, _if_ you tell them."

Her hand fell to her side. She pursed her lips resembling a much younger McGonagall. "Can you honestly tell me that you will feel the same about me when we go back?"

"Yes, I can!"  
She grunted in frustration. "You'll be surrounded by people who hate me. You're family will disown you, you'll lose your fortune. I cannot possibly be worth that -"

"You are!" He slammed his hands on the table as he shot to his feet the chair toppling to the floor, and she flinched. He didn't notice. "This isn't about me, it's about you."

"What?!"  
"You don't want to lose Potter, and Weasley. You don't want to lose the respect of your classmates and teachers because you're dating a _Slytherin_! I'm willing to give it all up, Hermione. Are you?"

Hermione could feel the tears streak her cheeks, and Draco seeing this raced around the table. He went towards her, but she flinched once more, and this time he saw it. She didn't mean to flinch, but his anger was scary, and she foolishly left her wand in her room.

"Are you afraid of me?"  
She didn't answer. She didn't know the answer to this question, and there was no book in the world to tell it to her.

"You are," he looked crestfallen. "Why," he suddenly yelled.

Draco swimed in her tears, and she took her chance in his rage. She grabbed him shoving his right sleeve up revealing the dark mark on his forearm. "That's why," she screamed.

He snatched his arm back pushing the sleeve down covering his allegiance. "That's my _past_."

"For only a month -"

"No! This mark was forced on me! I was born into a deatheater family, I was a deatheater, I was everything I was expected to be. I'm trying to be _me_, Hermione, but you won't let me will you?" He sighed, leaning on the chair beside him.

She spoke softly, "this isn't a fairy tale. We're not meant to be together. And I can't risk -"  
"Your friends," he said nastily.

"Losing you," she retorted. "Six years, Draco, you've been trying to hurt me, and then kill me. We're going about this too quickly, we were never friends. We're nothing alike."

He was surprised by these words. "How can you think that? We are alike. We're both stubborn with sharp tongues, and short tempers. We challenge each other. And so what if we weren't friends? We're much more now. Or at least I thought we were. This _can_ work, but you'll have to be willing to give it all up."

Hermione stared down at the floor unable to look at him any longer. She felt him draw closer to her, his finger underneath her chin tilting her head up to his.

"I like you. I like you so much I hated you for years. Ask yourself if I'm worth it. If I'm not, we'll go back to the rules."

Her heart hammered in her chest. Seconds ticked by. She had to answer. Could she live without Harry, and Ron? What if there was the slimmest chance that they would understand? Doubtful... Was he worth everything? "If you hurt me -"

"Never," he grinned taking her in his arms. "Never."

She pressed her ear against his chest listening to his racing heartbeat. He felt more real to her than anything had. "I'll tell Harry, and Ron, but in person. They deserve that much."

"What if they don't accept it?"

He was testing her she knew. "Then I suppose they didn't really love me." As always, she got the answer right. He snogged her.

As they ate their slightly cold breakfast Draco watched as she multitasked. She would take a couple of bites, and write a couple of words, back, and forth she would go.

_Harry & Ron,_

_Trust Dumbledore. I promise everything is fine here. We're doing okay, but I can't wait to see you. I miss doing my homework in the common room. It's not the same without Fred, and George distracting me! I love you, and I'll write as often as I can. I hope you're keeping up with your school work!_

_With Love, Hermione_


	12. Chapter 12

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Twelve

A Cinderella Halloween

A month of harmony passed. It was so nice that Hermione felt no need to read Draco's journal. Now that they were what they were, she couldn't bring herself to accio it to her.

Halloween was now among them, and Hermione, and Draco shopped for decorations. They stringed pumpkin lights around the walls of the sitting room, and purple lights twinkled on the ceiling. For their entertainment Dumbledore had sent a tap dancing skeleton that would last an hour, and a huge feast of turkey, pumpkin pasties, pudding, steak and kidney pie, and more that stuffed them. The dinner talk was certainly entertaining, almost better than the dancing skeleton.

"So, Muggle children dress up in costumes? For what?" Draco drinked deeply from his golden goblet.

"It's a tradition. See, back in Ireland -"

He held up a hand, "please, don't repeat word-for-word of the textbook. Give me the short version of whatever book you got it from."

"It's to scare off evil spirits. Now-a-days it's for fun."

The conversation went on longer than the dinner itself, and they laughed a lot. Hermione supposed that laughing that much burned of all the calories from the biscuits she helped herself to.

There weren't any trick-or-treaters due to the secrecy spell that had been placed on the house. This only made Hermione a little sad, and she stood by the window for a few long minutes watching the children go door-to-door, not glancing once in their direction. Then the streets emptied, and Hermione glanced at her watch. "Halloween's over."

"Is it," Draco asked beside her.

"Yeah, it's twelve o' one to be exact."

"I don't think so."

"It's right here, Draco!"

"I think it's wrong. Why don't you go upstairs, and check the clock in your room?"  
"It's not wrong," she argued.

"Just to be sure..."

"Fine," she snapped, and went up the stairs. He was being very unagreeable. Maybe he was tired. She fumed until she reached her room, and she stopped in the doorway when she saw an outline of something on her bed. Glancing behind her to the empty hallway, she went closer to the inanimate object.

It was an old Victorian styled dress. White, with intricate designs of flowers, and vines. There was a note beside it: _Try it on_. She ran the tips of her fingers over it. With her wand she shut the door, and took off her jeans, and halter.

The dress was a perfect fit, hugging her curves, sweeping the floor. She gathered her hair into an elegant bun, and remembered her grandmother's necklace. She wasn't one to wear a lot of jewelry, or any at all for that matter, so her jewelry box on her dresser was quite empty aside from the necklace. It was designs of connecting flowers, and vines, and was ideal for the dress. She put it on, and checked herself in the mirror above the dresser. She looked high class.

Quietly Hermione walked down the stairs. She thought of Cinderella. Ironic that she was meeting her Slytherin Prince, but in this story she wouldn't run away, and she wouldn't lose her shoe.

The sitting room took her breath away. All the decorations were gone. Candles were scattered everywhere, the fireplace burning lively, it was the only light making the room visible. Soft music was emitting from the walls. Draco stood in the center in a black tux, his hair slicked back. He was grinning smugly, but when he saw her it slid, replaced by a look of awe.

"Y-you're beautiful."

She laughed, she wasn't sure if she heard Draco stutter before. "You think so?"

"I know." He held out his hand when she closed the distance between them. "May I have this dance?"

Hermione took his hand, and he brought her close resting his hands on her hips, her hands on his shoulders. Slowly, they danced, and she couldn't stop smiling. "So, Draco Malfoy, how did you pull this off?"

He faked modesty. "Oh, it was nothing. A lot of spell work."

"A spell can't tell you my dress size."

He blushed then. "I guess you could say I broke the first two rules of our previous agreement."

"You went into my room, and looked through my clothes!"

He searched her face. "Depends on how angry you are..."

Hermione blushed as she thought of him seeing her under things. "I- I'm surprised is all... An invasion of privacy, but... Thank you. This dress is... Amazing."

"It looks amazing on you." Draco brought his lips to hers for a mere second waiting for her to pull away, and when she didn't they kissed deeply, stopping their dance in the middle of the floor, arms around each other. His hand came to her hair, and it fell from its bun. Their breathing became labored, and he held himself against her biting on her bottom lip tugging gently.

Hermione came to her senses, and placing her hands on his chest she pushed him away. His lips were wet, red, and he was clearly disappointed.

"Sorry, I - I just can't."

He nodded, running his hand through his hair. "I understand... I didn't do all this for... You know..."

She smiled. It was nice to know, because she was starting to wonder if what Harry, and Ron said was true, if he was up to something.

"I would never do that," he said seriously.

"Have you ever...?" She asked, afraid of the answer.

"Yes." He appeared to be more than a little uncomfortable about telling her that.

Her own disappointment settled in. "Oh..."

"It was a stupid thing I did. Wasn't out of love, or respect."

Hermione couldn't look at him. She stared at her sneakers... Sneakers... With a dress? She started laughing, forgetting about their current conversation. She kept laughing, unable to stop.

Draco stared at her worriedly. "Hermione, are you okay?"

She nodded, and pointed to her feet. He chuckled, "shoes! I knew I forgot something!"

There they stood, a sight to be seen, laughing in the middle of a romantic set, a girl with a Victorian dress, and sneakers, and a boy with his arm around her. No one would ever guessed that the two had been the worst enemies.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Falling

"Hermione, are you crazy?"

Hermione had woken up early that day, and shook Draco awake as well. She ordered him to put on his swim shorts. It took nearly half an hour to get him going, but eventually he was ready, and the moment he was outside his bedroom door where Hermione waited, she grabbed his hand, and dragged him outside.

She continued to drag him across the muddy ground, and wet grass (it had rained the night before), towards the pond. The air was chilly, tiny bumps traveled over her skin. She wore her yellow bathing suit, and was starting to wish she put on a shirt.

Draco groaned as he caught on what she was up to. "You are thick! It's too cold to swim, it's November!"

They reached the pond. "Exactly, and you haven't swimed yet since we've been here!"

He pointed to the pond, "I'm not going in there!"

She smirked, and before he could answer she shoved him in, a short scream escaping him. She laughed.

When his head popped back to the surface he yelled, "Granger, I'm going to kill you!" He shook all over from the cold.

Hermione proudly shrugged. "You had your chance."

Draco jumped up seizing her hand, and tugged her down. Hermione gasped as she lost her footing, and fell in. Ice prickled on her skin like a thousand needles. When she swam to the surface she panted for air, and caught sight of Draco in a fit of laughter.

"Oh, you think it's funny, do you?"

He nodded vigoursly. "Yeah."

She swiped her hand in the water splashing him. He put his hands up defensively, but then gave her his famous Malfoy snarl, and splashed her back. That's when the water war started. Back, and forth they splashed each other. He got close enough once to press his hands on her head dunking her under.

Underneath the water Hermione grabbed his legs, and grazed her fingertips over his feet hopefully. He jerked, and laughed. When she reemerged, she spit up some water, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Ticklish, Malfoy?"

"You're going to pay!" He lunged at her, but she sidestepped him, and he tumbled face first in the water.

"Nice try," she mumbled.

He grabbed her waist, droplets falling from his blonde lashes. A droplet trailed over his lips, and Hermione gently kissed it away. He pushed her hair from clinging to her face. They were lost in each other not noticing that another presence had been watching them.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

They whirled around, and saw Dumbledore on the patio, looking over his half-moon glasses at them interestingly. Hermione thought she had never been redder, even Draco looked like he would burst into flames.

"Now, don't be embarrassed. I myself like to take a nice long swim. But if you do not mind, I would like you two to dress. I have some news for you." He strolled into the house leaving them wide eyed.

Hermione hoped that the pond was muddy enough that her almost naked body was covered. Her headmaster had seen her in her swimsuit! Ginny Weasley was right, she was a prude, but this was the headmaster.

Draco, and her got out shivering. He flicked his wand, muttering a couple of spells. Their clothes flew out of an upstairs window, along with two towels. They dried, and dressed as they discussed what Dumbledore wanted with them.

"Maybe Potter's saved us all again, and we can go home." Draco put on the last article of clothing, his shirt.

Hermione put on hers, pulling up her jeans, buttoning, and zipping. "I don't think so. We would've read about it in the Prophet." She collected her hair together in a high ponytail. The Dailey Prophet, a wizarding newspaper was their only source to wizarding world aside from Harry, and Ron.

They walked inside to the sitting room. Dumbledore sat in one of the chairs comfortably, grinning knowingly when they came in. They sat a good feet from each other on the couch.

"What's this about, sir," Draco asked with much more respect than he had for him only months ago. "Is Voldemort gone?"

Dumbledore's smile faded. "I'm afraid not. I am still working on that with Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley. No, this is about Christmas."

"That's a month away," he stated confused.

"True, true, but I feel that you two should know now for less confusion in the future. You are not to live this premises for the holidays. Not even to visit your families."

Hermione try to protest. "But, sir -"

Dumbledore held up a graceful hand for silence that made Hermione snap her mouth closed. "I understand your want to be with your parents."

"Sir, we didn't leave for Halloween, why should we assume we'd leave for Christmas," he glimpsed questioningly at Hermione.

"Because," she started, "it's _Christmas_, it's a time to be with your families."

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I'm sorry, Miss Granger. I will be sending a letter to your parents explaining the situation."

Hermione shook her head, "please, sir, don't tell them about the war... I don't want them to worry."

"You haven't told your parents," Draco asked amused.

"They're Muggles, they sent me off to school expecting I would be safe. They'd go insane knew all of this."

Dumbledore twirled his thumbs. "What would you like me to tell them?"  
"Tell them..." Hermione thought for a moment. "Tell them I have a lot of studying to do, and I can't make it out there. They'll believe that."

"And you, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Tell them the truth."

Dumbledore raised his brows amusingly. "You're father wouldn't approve of that."

"I don't care..."

He sighed deeply. "In that case... Miss Granger's parents will have their memories modified. I cannot know how you're father will retaliate, and knowing his son is living with someone he would disapprove of will likely set him off to do anything. Miss Granger, will you sign a consent form for authorities to do this?"

Hermione turned to Draco. "Are you sure you want your father to know the truth?"

"Can't hide it from him forever, can I? But if you much rather have your parents be left alone, I won't do it. It's up to you, Hermione."

"Once this war started I knew sooner or later it had to be done. I mean, being Harry's best friend, and muggleborn, it was only a matter of time." She addressed Dumbledore, "sir, send me the forms as soon as you can."

Dumbledore stood, Draco, and Hermione politely following suit. "I'll leave you now," he said on his way to the front door, but stopped, and turned halfway to them. "May I present some advice?"

"Of course, sir," Hermione said.

"Love is the most complicated, beautiful feeling in the world. It has to be treated with care, and only then can it survive the most vicious of storms. You will not find this easy, but I believe that you two can be. If you want it enough." The wise old wizard left then, and the couple stood alone.

Minutes of silence passed. Draco broke this. "Are you alright with this?"

"Do I have a choice?" She was angry. "I'm sorry, Draco, I just want to be left alone. Excuse me." She rushed up the stairs to her room leaving him bewildered. She didn't want to say anything that she would regret later.

Hermione shut the door. Once she signed those forms, her parents wouldn't remember her. She would be an orphan. She laid on her bed, forcing the tears back, but they fell anyway.

She heard the door behind her creek open, and she knew it was Draco. There wasn't anyone else it could be. He crossed the room, and she felt the side of her bed sink down as he laid next to her, an arm slinking around her waist. She wanted him to go away. He'd seen her tears once, that was bad enough.

"Hermione," he said softly. She didn't speak, but he went on. "I'm sorry that you don't get to spend the holidays with your mum, and dad."

She hiccupped hiding her huff of disbelief. He didn't sound sorry, and she pointed this out. "You sound it."

He sighed, "there's a reason for that... I'm not."

She turned around, and glared at him. How dare he! "That's rich!" She went to get up, but he pressed her back down.

"Just listen... Please?"

Hermione stopped resisting, but the fire didn't leave her. She listened resentfully.

"You don't know this about me... There's a lot you don't know... But, my holidays weren't what you'd expect. The mansion would be professionally decorated, including the tree. We would have a large dinner, loads of presents, but my parents wouldn't speak to each other. Christmas was nice only because it was the one holiday where we spent the most time together. After the presents were open, and the food was ate, we would each go into separate rooms. I never had a real Christmas."

Hermione shifted awkwardly. She _did_ know this about him, he wrote it in his journal. He was wrong, there was a lot she knew. The guilt bubbled.

He went on, "spending Christmas with you will be the best Christmas I could ask for. It's not ideal for you, but it is for me. I can't be sorry that it happened this way. Maybe I'm selfish." He ran his thumb over her cheek wiping a tear streak away.

"No, you're not. Someone selfish wouldn't throw away the Malfoy fortune for a muggleborn."

"Not just any muggleborn. The smartest, and most beautiful muggleborn ever." He kissed her, and she forgot why she was upset, or where they were. His arm tightened around her waist drawing her closer. His teeth grazed her lips, a low moan breaking from her. Without realization he rolled on top of her, holding the back of her neck as he gave little kisses down it to her collarbone.

Instantly he stopped pulling away from her. "Sorry," he mumbled.

Hermione took in their position, and nodded sitting up. "Yeah..."

He went to leave, but she gripped his arm. He looked at her oddly.

"Stay, please? Just for a while?"

Slowly he nodded lying on his back next to her, and she curled up in his arms, her head on his chest. They were there for a long time, she was close to sleep when he spoke.

"Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"... I love you."

Taken aback she titled her head up at him. "Oh..."

Draco sighed closing his eyes. "I... I didn't know the right time... I haven't done this before, Hermione."

"Draco, look at me."

He opened his eyes, and she could see there were no guards up. He was vulnerable, like a wolf showing his belly to the Alpha. She beamed. "I love you too."

Relief waved over him. He held her face, and snogged her hard. "When," he asked against her lips.

"I don't know... I suppose it started when you didn't let me fall down the stairs," she chortled. "When was it for you?"

"When I realized I couldn't let you fall."

Hermione knew then that no matter what happened when they returned to their lives outside of the house she wouldn't forget that moment. If they didn't survive their friends, or their enemies they would at least have that moment.


	14. Chapter 14

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Fourteen

Crashing Waves

Two piles of homework were done. Hermione had the rest of the day free. She picked up her wand flinging the door shut, the lock clicking. She pulled out Witch Weekly's magazine from the bottom drawer of her desk.

November had passed in a haze, and December came crashing when she realized that she didn't have any gifts for anyone. She panicked when she didn't know how she was going to manage going shopping. There wasn't anything in the Muggle shops that she could get anyone, aside from Mr. Weasley, and her parents of course.

A pain echoed in her heart when she thought of her parents. They would be okay, they didn't know they had a daughter, Hermione signed the forms last month. They now lived in Australia completely unaware of who they were. She considered herself an orphan.

She refocused her mind. Presents, she had to find presents. She contacted Dumbledore a week ago asking if he could send her a catalog of some sort to do her shopping, and he sent her a stack of various magazines, and catalogs. She looked at the bottom of the magazines watching for advertisements to stores.

What Hermione worried about most was Draco. She was used to shopping for Harry, and Ron. They appreciated sweets, and Quidditch supplies. What did you get for someone that had everything? Then, she saw it. A set of four books about each of the Hogwarts founders, and... Yes, she could order separately. Draco would love a book about the founder of his house Salazar Slytherin. She ripped the form out, and took a quill from the top drawer, and began to order. Once completed she set placed it inside an envelope. He was going to love it.

In two hours, and over fifty magazines, and catalogs she found everyone gifts. She found Harry a set of supplies for his Firebolt, and Ron a book on his favorite Quidditch team the Chudley Canons. A new pair of Quidditch gloves for Ginny. As for Ron's parents she would simply stop by one of the Muggle shops near her later that day.

Hermione gathered her homework, and the envelopes in her arms, and carried them downstairs to the coffee table. Draco was there slumped on the couch, his feet on the table, the Dailey Prophet in hand.

"You're finally done?"

She sneered at him. "Yes. I have to triple check them. What if I made a mistake?"

He shook his head in wonder. "You never make mistakes."

"Doubtful," she muttered sitting. Automatically he put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned against him.

He sat the paper down. "What're you doing for the rest of the day?"

"I'm going to do some shopping. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley should be easy to find gifts for."

"Ah, the muggle lovers."

She furrowed her brows. "And what do you call yourself?"  
"A muggle_born_ lover. There's a difference."

"Funny," she said, and he gave her a peck on the lips to melt her anger. It worked like every other time. "Oh," she said suddenly sitting up.

"What," he asked alarmed.

"I forgot to write Harry back!"

He groaned as she ran up to her room. At her desk she pulled his letter to her, and re-read to refresh her memory.

_Hermione,_

_I don't want to give out too much information here, but I think we're close, you may be able to come home soon! Not before Christmas, but it's likely you won't be there for much longer. We're making a lot of progress._

_Dumbledore told us about your parents. I'm really sorry, Hermione. Don't worry, we'll get them back. Like I said, it won't be long. I'm just sorry that you have to spend the holidays with Malfoy. We tried to talk Dumbledore into letting you come here, but he wouldn't have it. Like we would let anything happen to you._

_And yes, for the millionth time, we are studying, and there's no point in telling you we're keeping notes, because you know we're not._

_I can only assume that you, and Malfoy are keeping to these "rules" you told us about. You never mention him. Ron will be disappointed. He was looking for a reason to curse him._

_Harry_

Hermione smiled dully. She didn't mention Draco because she was afraid if she did Harry would see right through it. She didn't know if she could write with the same disgust about him that she used to have. She sighed, and moved her quill over a clean sheet of parchment.

_Harry,_

_You're making progress, that's wonderful! It'll be so nice to be back in school, I know I'm falling behind. Just be careful._

_I would love to write more, but I'm terribly busy. Christmas is coming soon, and I still have so much more to do._

_With Love, Hermione_

Hermione folded the letter, and slid it in an envelope. She jogged downstairs where Malfoy still sat with the newspaper. She dropped the letter with the rest.

Draco threw the paper on the table. "Why don't you stop writing them?"

Hermione folded her arms over her chest, and waited for him to elaborate. There was no reason she should stop writing her friends.

"You know when we go back to school they're not going to accept us. Wouldn't it be better to stop writing, and get it over with?"  
"Have you stopped writing Crabb, and Goyle?"

"Don't have to. Haven't heard from them once while I've been here. I did receive a letter from my father informing me that I'm no longer in his will. I'm sure right now I'm hated more by the Slytherin's than Potter."

"So they know... About us?"

"No, my father would never tell anyone that I was dating a mud-" He clamped his mouth shut, staring at her unchanging expression, then tried again. "Muggle. He would consider it a blemish on our good name. As far as he's concerned, he doesn't have a son."

She felt bad for him. He had nothing. No friends, no family. All because of her. "Draco I -"

"Don't dare say sorry," he retorted. "I knew what I was going to happen."

She stood there awkwardly. "I don't know what to say..."

"Don't say anything. Come here."

Hesitantly she sat next to him. He curled an arm around her waist, and kissed her cheek. "It'll be okay."

"I know."

"...Would you mind if I ask you what your parents might think of me. You know, if they met me."

Hermione thought about it. She wasn't going to lie to him, she wanted to give him an honest answer. "I think they would like you. They would find you... Perfect for me."

She could feel his smile on her cheek. His lips lingered upwards finding her earlobe. He nibbled gently. She giggled, and he nipped at her neck. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair pulling her towards him his mouth on hers. The kisses grew more urgent, his tongue slipping past hers. Gradually she was leaning back until she was lying on the couch. Her hands felt his sides, she bunched his shirt in her hands using it to pull him downwards with her.

Draco's hand landed beside her head trying to keep his light weight from crushing her. He stroked her stomach lifting her blouse past her naval, his fingers brushing over the bare skin. He leaned down, kissing it, and returned to her lips, her chin. He undid the buttons of her top until he was able to place a kiss on her chest. He stopped, and looked into her caramel eyes.

"We don't have to do this," he said his voice husky.

"I know."

"If you say no, then that's it, we won't go any further. I won't love you any less you know that, don't you?"

Hermione smiled, and thought about it though her head was fuzzy. Would she regret it afterwards? No, she wouldn't. She trusted, and loved him. That's what mattered. He gave it all up for her. Now she was ready too. Her friends, her reputation, even this part of her she was giving him.

She kissed his lips. "Be gentle?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Hermione recalled the first time they snogged. It was like waves crashing over her. Those waves were more like drops of water compared to what they shared that night. It was a private moment that would remain between them. It wasn't something to be shared, but it was blissful. And they did it, many more times.


	15. Chapter 15

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Fifteen

Christmas Surprises

For Christmas Dumbledore managed to get them a fir tree, and several boxes of plain glass balls of red, gold, silver, and green. Draco, and her decorated it in silver, and gold, a good medium between two rival houses, and Hermione placed the very real glittering star on top by wand. He strung lights outside, and she hooked fireproof stockings on the mantle of the fireplace.

Three days before Christmas Hermione rolled onto her side expecting to feel Draco next to her, but instead her finger came in contact with something sharp. Hastily she woke, and saw on the Slytherin green pillow was a red rose. With thorns apparently, her forefinger bled. She sucked on it while she picked up the card. It read: _Stay in bed._

Short, sweet, to the point. She smiled inspecting her finger.

There was a knock on the open door, and she saw Draco's foot tapping it. He carried a tray in his hands. "Breakfast?" He sat the tray carefully on the bed. There were two plates of scrambled eggs, and toast.

"This is so sweet," she said admiring a second rose in a vase that sat between the plates.

Draco smiled proudly, but it slid as he saw a drop of blood fall on her flannel pants. "How'd that happen?" He took her hand in his, inspecting it himself.

"Every rose has its thorns."

He nodded understandingly. "Forgot to take them off, sorry." He took his wand out of his pocket, and pressed it to her finger, and instantly it healed. "Now, time for breakfast, tuck in."

"Is there a reason for all this?"

"Let me know how those eggs are." He avoided the question.

The next day she woke to a pink carnation. This time, there were no thorns, but there was another note. _Look under the bed._

She did as the note told. On her hands, and knees she peered in the dark shadows underneath the bed. There was another carnation, and under it some sort of book. She pulled it out, and sat cross legged on the floor with it in her lap. She was wrong, it wasn't a book, but an album of black leather, and golden corners. She flipped it open, and her breath caught.

On the first page was a picture of her parents with her as a baby in front of a blurry zoo sign. They were smiling, and tufts of her brown hair had static sticking up in all directions. She turned the next page, and there she was on her first birthday cake all over her face, her mother trying desperately to wipe the chocolate off her wide grin. Another was on their ski trip three years ago. She had her mothers hair, and figure, and her father's eyes. The album held every picture of her, and her parents, and near the end she was crying tears of happiness.

Hermione looked up, and saw Draco leaning against the doorframe of her room. "How," she asked.

"Dumbledore had to take the pictures out of their house. I asked him if I could have them. Do you like it?"

"I love it!" She jumped up, and ran to him, hugging him tightly. "It must've took you forever to put all that together. And it was in chronicle order!"

He laughed kissing her hair, but didn't explain further, and Hermione's curiosity grew.

The next morning it was Christmas Eve, and again, Draco wasn't in bed. She wondered what surprises waited for her that day. Again, there was a lily, and a note. _Go into the bathroom._

She stretched, and stood, her feet becoming chilled on the wooden floor. She prodded the door to his bathroom open. She knew it was identical to hers, but it was dark inside, the shades drawn over the windows, but there were candles lining a foot away from the walls, and they surrounded the tub that had large purple, pink, blue, and gold bubbles in it. She looked around for Draco, but didn't see him.

Hermione walked around the room, and saw a note stuck to the cabinet mirror above the sink. _Enjoy, you're breakfast awaits when you're done._ She grinned appreciatively, and stripped off her pajamas. She took her time soaking in the steaming water, and thousands of bubbles.

Thirty minutes later she dried off, and dressed in sweats, and a gray shirt she took out of Draco's drawer. When she entered the kitchen she saw her breakfast of several muffins, and a tall glass of milk. She sat down, and wondered where Draco was. Usually he showed up sometime during his little surprises, but this time he was MIA. She took a hesitant sip of her drink, and found that it was still cold. She didn't think he had just poured it, but put a spell on it. _Clever_, she thought.

She was putting the dishes in the sink when Draco came in. He appeared to be a little windblown, his cheeks red from it, and there were flakes of snow on his shoulders that gave the impression that he had bad dandruff.

"Where have you been?" She noted how she sounded like a nagging wife, and bit her lip. "I mean..." There was no way around it, they've been living together too long.

"Dumbledore called me in."

"What for?"

"My father's in Azkaban. One of the Order caught him." By Order he was referring to the Order of the Phoenix, an organization Dumbledore founded to stop Voldemort.

Hermione was dumbfounded. She didn't know what to say, she didn't know how he felt. He sensed this.

"It's okay, Hermione. I'm alright. My father had it coming."

"What about your mom," she asked resisting the urge to brush the snow from his shoulders.  
"Are you kidding? She has the house to herself, she's loving it." He took off his cloak, and shook the snow off it.

Hermione took out her wand, and flicked it through the air, the puddle that would soon form on the floor evaporated.

"Sorry," he mumbled, and hung his cloak on the back of his chair. "How about we forget this? I want you to teach me how to make those Christmas cookies."

"Seriously?" Hermione had talked with him one night about Muggle traditions.

"Sure, sprinkles, and all."

And later that evening they did just that, but not before they went skating on the fully frozen pond. Hermione had skated a lot when she was younger. Her mother taught her. Draco had never once stepped out onto ice, and instantly fell on his behind. She took his hands guiding him, pointing out suggestions that he took grudgingly, but he was a quick learner. In no time they were skating in circles, never letting the other go, and only stopping for a short lunch of sandwiches.

When dusk settled Hermione kept her promise, and taught him how to make, and roll out the dough. As he was fighting with the roll pin complaining that the dough wouldn't stick to it she took a small handful of flour, and sprinkled it over the pin. She stood behind him her chest to his back, holding hands over his teaching him the simple task of rolling.

"Am I doing okay," he asked over his shoulder.

"Just fine, I think I can let you go now."

He spun around snatching her wrists before she moved away. He snogged her deeply for a few long moments taking her breath away. He smiled mischievously. "I don't know... Think I could use some more help."

"Maybe you do," she agreed.

Draco didn't do so bad for his first time baking cookies. They were edible to say the least, and were in shapes of fir trees, snowmen, snowflakes, Santa, and reindeer. They sat at the table eating a few. Afterwards he went to pick up the plate, Hermione smartly smacking his hand.

"What was that for?"  
"You leave them out for Santa."  
He rolled his eyes. "There's no such -"  
"It's tradition, and don't tell me he doesn't exist, because in 13 -"

"Oh, please don't go into a history lesson," he whined. "Fine, we'll leave them out."

Hermione smiled pleased that she won. "Alright then, I'm off to bed. Are you coming?"

"No, I think I'll wash the dishes. Go on, I'll be up soon."

Hermione nodded slowly, feeling that it was more than washing the dishes. It wasn't long ago that he had found out about his father, he needed time to absorb that.

When she got into her bedroom she thought about the last three days. They had been wonderful, but there was no reason for him having to do those things. He wouldn't tell her, perhaps his journal would. It had been a very long time since she read it. There was no need to Draco, and her being so close. But it wasn't like she hadn't read it before... What harm could it do reading it again?  
She talked herself into it, waited as the journal came flying in to her. She only hoped that Draco stayed in the kitchen long enough for her to find out what was going on with him.

_22/12/96_

_It's my fault that Hermione can't have her parents with her at Christmas. If only I stood up to my father earlier then none of this would have happened. I need to make it up to her somehow. For three days I'm going to give her little surprises, hopefully it'll take her mind off of it. Today I woke up at three in the morning. I took one of the roses out of our front garden, and laid it next to her pillow. Unfortunately I forgot to take the thorns off, but I hope she was pleased none-the-less. I wrote a note to tell her to stay in bed, and I made her breakfast._

_I wrote Dumbledore for the pictures I knew he had taken out of Mr. and Mrs. Grangers house a month ago, and received them immediately. The album is finally done._

Deeply she sighed. It was because of her parents. Draco was blaming himself for it all. She read on.

_23/12/96_

_I transfigured one of my quills into a carnation. Thanks to my mothers constant attention to our gardens I know my flowers, not that I'll admit that to anyone else... I left another note, and she found the album. She was crying when I checked on her. She hugged me. It's the closest thing I can do to bring her her parents._

She closed his journal, and reflected. It wasn't his fault. A child shouldn't be expect to stand up to his father, and if he had stood up to Voldemort, he would be dead, and there would be someone else assigned to his place that wouldn't think twice of killing her. She had been lucky. Of course, there was no way for Hermione to tell this to him, because it would be admitting that she read his journal.

Then she heard shuffling in the hallway. Draco was on her way up. She still held the journal. She panicked, there wouldn't be a way of sending it back without him seeing it flying past him. Quickly she rolled onto the bed, and dropped it between the wall, and the bed. Then, as if on cue, she heard his voice.

"What're you doing in here?"

"Oh, um... Nothing. Just checking for... Dust." That had to be the lamest excuse she ever gave in her life.

Draco stared at her. "Coming to bed," he asked.

"Sure," she smirked glad of the subject change.

Hermione was fast asleep when she felt Draco stir, his breath on the nape of her neck. He smiled as she breathed, "happy Christmas."

"You too."

"Breakfast, or presents?"

"Breakfast, I'm starving."

Draco cooked as Hermione waited at the table impatiently. She couldn't wait for him to open his gift so she could see the look on his face.

Once they ate they went into the sitting room where a small pile of multicolored presents laid at the base of the sparkling tree. They gathered around it, Draco handing her each present.

Hermione received two thick books from Harry, Ron, and a new silver quill from Ginny. The fourth present was from her parents. They must have bought it before they were... She ripped it open, and saw another book, tears in her eyes.

Draco who sat there watching her with amazement, said, "do you ever get anything else?"

She shrugged. "They know what I like."

He bent over wiping away her silent tears. Gently he took the book from her, "come on, lets keep going," he said quietly.

She took the second to last present from him, beautifully wrapped in red, and gold, his name scrawled on the line of "from." She tore off the paper, and saw yet another book, but she started laughing when she saw what it was. The history of Gordric Gryffindor, an ancient drawing of the Gryffindor Founder on the front with his red robes, and wild beard.

"I thought you would like it," he said sadly.

She caught her breath, "I do, it's just... Open yours."

He looked quizzically at the last present. He undid the silver bow on the green materiel that slid off the book. He smiled, and chuckled. "And you said we were nothing alike." He held the book similar to hers, with the exception of a long faced, evil man on the front that was Salazar Slytherin.

Hermione, hopeful asked, "how was this Christmas?"

"The best ever. Thanks to you."

"Really, Draco, this can't be any better, you only had one present."

He shook his head. "Two. I have you, and that's loads better than anything you could've gotten me."

They smiled, they laughed, and they spent the rest of the night talking of nothing but the best days they've had. Most of them included each other.


	16. Chapter 16

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Sixteen

Not So Perfect

Weeks went by, and Hermione forgot completely about Draco's journal that was hidden between her bed, and the wall. He didn't seem to miss it. Or at least, she thought he didn't...

February was closing in, the snow still falling, the roses outside long gone replaced by packed dirt covered in white softness. One Sunday night after dinner they stayed outside throwing snowballs at each other. One hit Draco directly in the face, snow burning his eyes. After a few choice curse words Hermione checked his bloodshot eyes carefully trying not to let out so much as a giggle. When she did it resulted in a pile of snow falling over her head from her roommate. However, the best part of the day was the hot bath they shared afterward.

One cloudy Saturday morning Draco convinced her to stay in bed an extra five minutes. Her homework was done, of course, but she had promised the day to cleaning, but Draco refused to let her go, his arms tightly around her.

"Five minutes," he said innocently, but smiled wickedly.

"Oh, fine," she grumbled. "But only five minutes!"

They snuggled, her head on his chest as it usual was, his arms wrapped around her waist. Hermione's brain was still in a dazed state after shortly being awake. She said tiredly, "tell me, Draco, what else did you feel on the night those dementors came into the train?"

He furrowed his brows looking down at her. "Else?"  
"What memories did you remember?"

"Doesn't matter," he said shortly. "I didn't remember anything."

"What about you crying when you fell off your broom?"

There was silence, his arms loosened from around her. "What? How do you know that?"

Then it came to her. She said too much. He never told her that. She thought quickly, but not quickly enough, he let her go sitting up, his face filled with rage.

"Answer me, Granger!"

She flinched. She hated it when he used her surname. "I don't know, _Malfoy._ Lucky guess?"  
"Yeah, right! How did -" Realization dawned on him halfway through his question. He looked horrified. "You found my journal! You read it!"  
Hermione guiltily stayed quiet. Out of the corner of her eye she could see his chest heave as if it was containing every ounce of anger, and was ready to blow.

"Get out," he snarled.

"Let me explain," she started.

"No! There's no excuse for what you did! That was my journal!"

"Dra -"

"Out, Granger."

Hermione sighed, and kicked the blankets from her. She went out of the room afraid to look over her shoulder at his expression. She was afraid he would lash out if she did so, or the guilt would bury itself further into her gut, and heart never to be removed. She went into her own room, and felt out of place. For a while Draco's bedroom felt like hers. She had even gotten used to the Slytherin hangings, but this... Despite the Gryffindor colors, her own things, it didn't feel like hers.

She collapsed on her bed feeling suddenly awake, and stupid. She should have watched more carefully what came out of her mouth. How could she forget that he didn't say those things to her? But sometimes, what was in the journal, and what he really said blurred together. Her thoughts were interrupted when her door opened. Draco stood there in his boxers his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Where is it?"

Hermione knew he was referring to his journal. She remembered reading it one day, before Christmas. He was coming up the steps, and she had to hide it. She turned onto her stomach, and reached down between the bed, and the wall, and pulled a black leather book out.

"What's it doing there?" The tone in his voice stung, it was like they were back to hating each other.

"It fell..."

Draco stomped over snatching the journal from her hands, and again, she flinched. He stopped at seeing this, and the cold glare that had returned to his steel eyes softened, but only for a second. He stopped once more at the doorway, turning to snarl, "guess you're not so perfect after all," and he left, and Hermione cried.

_Hermione,_

_Why do I get the feeling that you're not telling us something? What's happening between you, and Malfoy? Is he hurting you? If he is, we'll get you out of there one way, or another._

_Harry_

Hermione dipped her quill into the bottle. She held it over the blank parchment watching the ink drop onto it the page soaking it in thirstily. She began writing.

_Harry,_

_I'm okay. There is nothing going on between Malfoy, and I. We're keeping to the "rules." We're not speaking, touching, or going into each others rooms. We're not existing to one another. Don't worry about it, focus on what Dumbledore wants you to do. The more you do that, the sooner I'll be back. I really miss you all._

_With Love, Hermione_

Like the drop of ink, there was a drop of salty tears. She could finally tell Harry, and Ron the truth, there was no more pretending that there was nothing going on, because now there wasn't. Hermione should have felt relieved to be honest with her friends, but she instead she felt saddened. The one person that was keeping her going mad was the one person that refused to speak to her.

They ate breakfast in silence. Draco wouldn't cook for her. They didn't speak, or touch, he wouldn't look at her. She had never felt so lonely, not even when she had first came to the house. It was better being an enemy with him without knowing what his touch felt like, than being nothing at all with memories of what his breath floating over her skin. She wanted so much to see him smile.

It had been weeks, and Valentines had passed. She didn't even see him that day, he had locked himself in his room. Somehow that hurt more than if he had gone about his day like she wasn't there.

Hermione had to leave the house. She was going crazy. It was as if the walls were closing in on her. She stuffed the letter away, and she left, leaving her yet-to-be-done homework out on the table. For once in her life, she didn't feel like solving out equations, or reading ten books to double check one answer.

The air outside was cold, and the snow was lightly falling from the stormy clouds. It felt refreshing on her face. She didn't bring her jacket. Things were becoming numbing to her, and she would rather feel the freezing cold than nothing at all.

Hermione walked to street she had her first date with Draco, lined with Muggle shops. She went into a bookstore, her sanctuary. The scent of books, the sight of them, it calmed her, and set off a trigger of happiness. Temporarily she forgot about him as she started pulling books from their shelves, and divulged herself in them.

Late in the afternoon she thought it best to go, before they kicked her out. She did a last round between the rolls. She walked past the books seeing journals, much like Draco's. There was one on the shelf that caught her eye.

It was a deep purple tied together with a silky black ribbon. It gave her an idea, it was perfect. If she hadn't been wallowing for so long she would have came up with it long ago.

She rushed to the counter to pay for it, and once out the door she slid it under her blouse to keep it from the snow. She couldn't wait to get home, and put the idea to the test.


	17. Chapter 17

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Seventeen

By Fate

Late that night Hermione sat at her desk, her new quill in hand, the new journal propped open to the first page. She thought of what to write, her tongue between her teeth, then words, and feelings flowed from her head to her hand, and her quill danced over the page.

_20/2/97_

_For the last five months I've spent my 6th year with my worst enemy. Not by choice, of course. Only by fate. Because of his deal with the most evil wizard in the world, and my stupidity in saving him we were placed under one roof, forced to live together._

_Maybe it would happen to anyone, a biological gene of human condition. Love, or kill. Or maybe it wasn't love after all. All I know is that snogging him was the most free I've ever felt. I kissed the lips of a man who called me a mudblood too many times to count. His lips are poisoned with terrible words said to me, his hands dirty from the things I fear to imagine he has done._

_What's my point? In the end, to me, he's still Draco. Not Malfoy, the boy I despise, but Draco, the man I've come to love. I tried with all my might to not fall, but I've fallen anyways, and how? His journal. It was by accident, I thought I brought my journal (I left it at home), and his flew into my hands. Curiosity overrode any fear I had of him._

_Because of my bravery I learned a softer, more deep side of Draco Malfoy. Because of my bravery, I lost him. He may never come back to me, and I could never blame him, but this I do know: I will always, truly, completely, deeply, be in love with the man who made me see past the dark mark._

_Draco Malfoy, I love you._

The page held imperfect drops of tears much like her letter to Harry. She had been crying too much lately. This would be the last time. This would be her closure. She let the ink dry, and closed her feelings inside tying it with a bow. She sent it away with a twirl of her wand letting it fly to his bedside.

There wasn't anything else she could do, but wait. Hermione was a logical person, and she doubted Draco would ever forgive her. She knew she wouldn't have forgiven him. Then again, all he had to do was give her that smile of his, and hating him would leave her mind.

Night was upon her, and she climbed into her bed, pulling the covers over her. It wasn't the same without Draco next to her. She was used to his presence, his dark scent on her pillow. It would always feel empty without him. She pulled a pillow close to her, holding it to her chest. Tears stung her eyes, but she didn't cry. She wouldn't cry another night.

Restless, lonely, and tears not quite falling, she drifted off. However long she was asleep wasn't known. It only felt like minutes, but she knew it must have been hours. Something warm, and firm rested on her arm, and she was suddenly wide away. Hermione turned around her arm out for her wand, but another hand grasped her wrist with the speed of a Seeker.

"Draco," she asked hoarsely.

"Yeah, it's just me."

As much as she missed being that close to him, he was too close for comfort. His lips were near hers, it took every fiber of her being not to close the small, almost insignificant gap between them. "What do you want?"

He let her go. Hermione scooted away, her back to the wall. He picked something up beside him. He held it out to her. It was her journal. Her heart jumped in her throat.

"Oh..."

Without an explanation, or accusations he left her on that bed wondering after him. She wanted to summon his journal, what did he think? Why did he give it back?

Hermione untied it, thumbing through the pages. On one she saw handwriting that wasn't hers. It was Draco's. She swallowed fearfully. Was it filled with hate, or love?

"Lumos," she whispered holding her wand over the words.

_20/2/97_

_For the last five months I've spent my 6th year with my worst enemy. Not by choice, but by fate. Because of my deal with the most evil wizard in the world, and the guts it took her to save me, we are now living under one roof._

_It wouldn't happen to anyone, it's not a biological gene of human condition: Love, or kill. It wasn't love from the beginning, that much is certain, but it has become that. I know that snogging her was like seeing something you didn't believe existed. It was enlightening, and beautiful. I kissed the lips of someone pure. Her lips bear wisdom beyond her age, and her hands hold innocence._

_What's my point? She's no longer Granger, the mudblood. She's the woman I've come to love more than anything, or anyone. I know finding this "journal" wasn't by accident, but her finding mine was. I understand that now, and regret that I didn't listen to her._

_I will have her only if she shall have me. I will love her every single day of my life if she forgives me, but if she doesn't I know I will anyway. Nothing in the world could stop me from loving her. I tried so hard not to feel this way about someone I believed to be the scum off my worst pair of shoes. I've found that she is worth more than the entire Malfoy fortune, worth more than any gold, or pure blood that may exist._

_Worthy, or not of her, I will continue to love her._

Hermione's promise of not crying that night was broken easily by what she read. She ran the back of her hand across her cheeks. She felt her heart leave her chest with flight like it had grown its own wings.

She left the journal on her bed running to the hall on her way to Draco's room, when she literally ran into him. He didn't smile, or laugh, but held her arms so she wouldn't fall, almost like the first time they snogged. She stared up at him waiting for something. Forgiveness perhaps.

Draco didn't say anything to her, but she knew she had been forgiven, and that he was looking for the same in her. His eyes were back to their stormy gray. He bent his head, his nose barely touching hers, and he waited as if for permission. She raised herself on her toes, and kissed him hard on his mouth.

Right there in the middle of the hallway they held each other. Lavender, and musk mingled. Caramel, and gray bearing into each other. If it was possible their love deepened. They knew then that they couldn't return to the way they were.


	18. Chapter 18

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Eighteen

Haven't Begun

The first major fight was over, and they survived. Hermione moved back into Draco's room, and continued to live as if the fight had never occurred.

It was a cloudless day in May, the bright sun melted the last of the snow. It was a nicely warm day, but Hermione, and Draco forced themselves to stay inside doing a large pile of homework. Or rather, Hermione forced Draco to stay inside.

Draco lounged on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table, and Hermione laid on her back, her head on his lap. All that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment, the occasional turning of a page, and a sigh of frustration, mostly from Draco's part. Laying his paper on the arm of the couch writing an essay on giants in the northern hemisphere, he ran his fingers through Hermione's curly hair.

The erupt sound of the doorbell startled them, and Draco cursed as he splotched his page. Hermione leapt to her feet scurrying to the window. She peeked out, and saw an old man with a long beard, and jovial smile. She opened the door as Draco stood beside her.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir!" Hermione greeted stepping back allowing him in.

"Hello Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy." He stopped inside the entrance taking in the piles of books, quills, and papers. "I see you are studying. I'm sorry to interrupt you."

"No, not at all, sir," Draco said please more that he had a reason to rest his eyes. "What do we owe this pleasure?"

"May I first inquire if either of you have read the Daily Prophet?"

"No, sir, Hermione insisted we start our homework early," he glimpsed at her accusingly.

Dumbledore's grin widened. "Then I have the great satisfaction of seeing your expressions. Harry, Ron, and if I shall say myself, have vanquished Voldemort," he clapped his hands together happily.

Hermione gasped, and squealed. "Really, how?"

Draco appeared to still be in shock staring blankly at the headmaster. It was like he wasn't in belief of what he was being told.

Dumbledore sat himself in one of the chairs, the only one that wasn't occupied with studying materials. "It's quite a complicated story, Miss Granger. I shall try to explain, however..."

Hermione, and Draco sat themselves on the couch scooting their work aside. They listened intently to Dumbledore's story of horocruxes, deathly hallows, and the war. Hermione was sad that she couldn't have been involved. She could have helped out so much, and one look at Draco told her that he felt the same. Life had gone on without them.

She then thought of her friends, and knowing them they had gotten in on the war too. "Is everyone alright? Harry, Ron, Ginny, the rest of the Weasley's? Nevielle? Luna?"

He sighed sadly. "It was a war, and like every war there are unfortunate casualties."

"Who," she asked barely breathing. Draco's clammy hand caressed hers ready to grab like a lifesaver.

"Lupin, Tonks, Fred Weasley, Crabb, and... I could sit here all day telling you of the deaths that took place, but... I think it's best if I stopped there. Those are the ones I'm sure you're closest to."

Hermione began crying. Tears poured down her cheeks quickly, and silently. She thought of Ron, George, and all of the Weasley's. This was Mrs. Weasley's worse nightmare, her greatest fear, her boggart. She knew that none of them would fully recover from it. And Lupin, and Tonks... They just had a baby... Harry told her about the baby boy, Teddy. She cried harder feeling Draco's arm securely over her shoulders. She looked up, and through blurry eyes saw his wet ones. Crabb had been a bodyguard at most, but she knew that there was some sort of care there.

"I'm sorry to have been the one to tell you," Dumbledore said with enormous sensitivity.

Hermione couldn't speak. It felt like her throat had closed up, so she nodded.

Draco spoke, his voice tight. "What about her parents, sir?"

"The authorities are on that right now giving their memories back to them. They should be home in a couple of days unaware of anything that happened."

"Good," he said.

"I know this isn't the right time, but you should both start packing your things."

"What for, sir," Draco asked.

"The war is over, Mr. Malfoy. This arrangement I set for you, and Miss Granger was only temporary. You may return to Hogwarts tomorrow, and you will join your houses for the end of term. I know that your friends are anxious to see you." He took out a pocket watch with many hands on it, and rose to his feet. "I must leave now. I will be back tomorrow at five. Please have all your things ready to go," and he left the way he came.

In silence they sat. It pressed in on them, suffocating until one of them had to speak. That person was Hermione. "I guess this work will have to wait. I have a lot of packing to do."

"Hermione," Draco held her shoulder. "I have to know. Is anything going to change? You know, between us?"  
"It has to, we'll be in different houses, we won't even be able to eat breakfast with each other."

"I meant..."

"No, it won't."

He nodded, and held her to him. "This is going to be hard."

"I think it has been from the start."

Hermione's suitcase sat open on her bed. She neatly folded her clothes into sections of blouses, pants, under things. She sat the last article of clothing she had in, and stood back to admire her organizational skills. She was done. Everything else was packed.

With great strength she dragged it off her bed. It thudded on the floor, and she was thankful that it had wheels. She rolled it into the hallway, and suddenly it became light in her hands, almost like it was floating. She looked behind her, and saw that it was. Standing in his doorway was Draco wand in hand shaking his head disappointed.

"Forgot the spell?"

She sneered. "It doesn't hurt to do things the Muggle way once in a while."

"I'd like to see you get that down the stairs."

"Oh, bugger off, Draco," she snapped, but smiled in spite of herself carrying the feather light suitcase behind her.

In a matter of time their belongings were by the door awaiting to be taken to Hogwarts. Draco, and Hermione stood by the fireplace staring at it expectantly, and sadly. Last night was their last night together. Throughout the night they hadn't let go of one another, being as close as possible they intangled their legs around each others, his hand on her waist, her hand over his chest.

"I didn't know it would feel this way," Hermione said mostly to herself. "I wanted Voldemort to be gone, but this is... Bittersweet."

Draco nodded understandingly. "We haven't begun to see our war, Hermione."


	19. Chapter 19

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Nineteen

Into Reality

Draco, and Hermione emerged from the green flames entering Dumbledore's study, Dumbledore himself appearing from the flames a moment later.

"Welcome home," he was jubilant.

"Thank you, sir," Hermione felt sick.

"If you don't have any questions, you both should go to your common rooms. Your houses are on the edge of their seats waiting for you."

Draco, and Hermione nodded, and gave him the last of their thanks. Down the spiraling staircase, and into the entrance hall. Hermione didn't remember the castle feeling so cold, and unwelcoming. She turned to Draco.

"I guess I'll see you around."

Draco took her hand pressing a kiss to her fingers. Then pulled her in for a real kiss. He gripped her waist as if he wouldn't let go, but he did, and they stood there breathless for a moment. With grimaced smiles they went their separate ways, him to the dungeons, and her up seven more staircases.

Hermione came to a halt in front of the Fat Lady portrait, being greeted by nagging. "You've been gone so long you probably don't know the password!"

Dumbledore had told her, and Draco their passwords before they left for Hogwarts. "Proud Lion," she informed.

The Fat Lady snorted with disgust, and swung open.

Hermione stepped through the portrait hole, and was deafened. The sound erupted suddenly like a crack of thunder. There was whoops, and yells, clapping, and banging. The common room was just as she had remembered, but there was a banner over the fireplace that Dean Thomas had obviously drawn, her name curved in a fancy fashion with a lion on each side.

Everyone was there greeting her, but Harry, Ron, and Ginny were the first to hug her, Harry kissing her cheek, Ron her forehead. She had never felt more loved than she did right then in the middle of all her friends. She knew it would end soon. By tomorrow they would all know her betrayal. For however long it lasted she would enjoy it.

Hermione usually looked down on their celebrations because of the disturbing amount of noise they produced while she tried to study. This time she joined in. She didn't realize how much she had missed them. She truly was home now.

Two pumpkin pasties, and three butterbeers later they were all turning in. Slowly their classmates ascended up the stairs to their dormitories. Hermione quietly asked Harry, Ron, and Ginny to stay. If she was going to tell them she might as well tell them then in case it leaked out from Draco. She didn't want them to hear from the uproaring Slytherin's, even if she knew they wouldn't believe them.

The common room was a mess. Bottles, and wrappers laid all over the place. She resisted the urge to clean up, and sat on the familiar red couch with Ginny beside her. Harry, and Ron took seats in the chairs by the lively fire.

Hermione glanced from Ginny, to Ron, and she felt like she was going to cry again. She held it back. She couldn't do that in front of them, not in their pain. "I'm sorry..."

Ron looked into the fire; Ginny hugged her. "He had a smile on his face," Ginny's voice was throaty with emotion.

"Harry -" Hermione started.

"It's alright, Hermione. Lets not talk about it. You're home... Lets focus on that. We really missed you."

"I missed you all too." She looked worriedly over at Ron.

He faced her with a forced grin. "Do I get to curse Malfoy?"

She directed her eyes down. Now was the time. She had to tell them.

"Hermione, what's wrong? Did something happen? Did he do anything to you?" Ginny questioned her, but all Hermione could do was shake her head.

Carefully she chose her words. "I hated Malfoy, you all know that." They nodded in agreement. She went on. "We had these rules, and we followed them for a while... It just happened... We were fighting, and I almost fell back on the stairs... He saved me... And..."

"Did you snog?!" Ginny blurted out.

Hermione nodded refusing to look at them still, staring interestingly at her hands.

"You did not!" Ron yelled.

"Hermione! How could you!" Harry fumed.

She shushed them not wanting the rest of the house to hear, but suddenly felt the need to explain, and the words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush. "We didn't mean to, but we did, I'm not sorry for it!"

"You're not," Ron said angrily. "He's Malfoy! You snogged him! Ugh, I think I'm going to be sick."

"I found his journal. It was by accident, and I read about him... He's not the person we thought he was. I'm not defending what he's done, but he's trying to be better. He is!"

Harry had gone considerably pale by this time. "Hermione, please tell me, you're not seeing him? Please tell me this was only a one time thing." She said nothing, giving herself away, and he groaned.

"How's his snogging?" Ginny asked, seemingly unphased.

Hermione chuckled amused. "Amazing," she admitted.

"Interesting..."

"Ginny," Ron scolded. "He's a deatheater. He's part of the same group that killed..." He stared back into the fire, his blue eyes wet.

"I'm not defending him either, Ron. But we don't know him. He's been with Hermione for months, maybe he has changed."

"Doubtful."

Hermione was near tears again. One moment she was laughing, the next crying. She couldn't decide which emotion would be appropriate. "If he was really one of them, I would be dead right now! He saved my life!"

"He was going to kill you!"

"But he didn't!"

"He's done something to you! Slipped you a love potion, or something!"  
"Oh, for Merlin sakes, Ron, why would he do that? He has no reason to!" She found that they were both standing now so close they could feel the heat off each other. They were both red in the face.

Harry, and Ginny stood then. Ginny pushed her brother away, and Harry pulled Hermione back a couple of steps.

"I won't forgive you for this," Ron snarled shrugging himself out of his little sisters grip, and stormed up to his dormitory.

Harry, Ginny, and her stayed in Ron's wake. They were quiet for a moment, but Ginny quickly spoke what was on her mind as she always did.

"Don't worry, he'll come around. Eventually..."

"Malfoy, eh?" Harry frowned. "Do you really believe him?"

Hermione gazed hopefully at him. "Yes, I do. I know you hate him, Harry, I used to too. I'm not asking you to forgive him, or even give him a chance, but -"

"No matter what you decide, I'm here for you. Don't worry about me, but I swear, Hermione if he does anything I'll curse him into oblivion."

"Me too," Ginny was enthusiastic. "You have to give me details, you know. A Slytherin... It'll be interesting."

Harry looked at his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow, but turned back to Hermione. "What're you going to do?"  
"We're not going to hide it if that's what you're asking."

"Brave," he said

"I am a Gryffindor."


	20. Chapter 20

No Copyright Infringement Intended In This Story

Chapter Twenty

A Battle Lost

As weird as it was waking up in the house, it was weird waking up in the girls dormitory. The curtains drawn around her shielded the light, and she shut her eyes when she pulled them back the next morning.

She fell asleep last night debating in her head whether it would be better to wake early, and go to breakfast, or walk in with everyone staring at her like a slug. She opted for the first option. At least when they all stared she would have something to stare at too. Her plate.

Hermione dressed slowly, and quietly as not to wake the other girls up. She crept down to the empty common room, and down the staircases with her pack in tow. When she entered the Great Hall she was the first one. The teachers hadn't arrived, but the plates, and glittering goblets laid out ready in the rows of four tables.

She went to the second to the right, dragging out a book. Until the food came she would concentrate on the pages.

Ten minutes later students started filing in. She knew they were looking at each other. It wasn't known how a word traveled so fast through a school at night. It was one of life's greatest mysteries. She kept her eyes to her book, not looking back.

Aside from Harry, and Ginny, no other Gryffindors would sit near her. Ron sat with Seamus Finnigan, and his brother George. Even Nevielle was avoiding her. She took her chance over her plate of dry toast to look to the Slytherin table. If the stares from Gryffindor were daggers, then the Slytherin held swords to kill. As down key as possible she searched for Draco, but didn't see him. What did his fellow housemates do to him?

Harry leaned to her, and whispered, "it's alright, we'll be with you."

"It's Draco I'm worried about."

As everyone left for their classes, Harry, and Ginny stayed particularly close. Hermione followed in a haze. She thought of Draco. He wasn't a coward, he wouldn't run from breakfast. Something had to happen, she knew it. She broke away from the crowd.

"Hermione, where're you going?" Harry called.

"Infirmary."  
"You okay -"

"It's a hunch, go ahead without me, I'll see you in class."

She was jostled harder than normal on her way to the infirmary. Once she was knocked clear off her feet a blinding pain shooting through her back. She didn't see who did it, but soon a foot connected with her stomach, and she curled instinctively into a ball gasping for air that was knocked out of her.

A loud crack like a firework exploded in the hall. A furious voice of a prefect echoed off the walls.

"Fifty points from Slytherin! Fifty from Ravenclaw!" Harry bent down grasping the crook of her arm pulling her to her feet. He shoved her forward giving glares to each, and every student they passed almost daring them to think of fighting back.

The halls emptied as the students went into their classrooms. He walked with her all the way up to the infirmary. Her hand reached for the door, but she realized Harry wasn't leaving. He seemed to know what she was thinking.

"I'll wait out here. Go on."  
"Harry, you need to get to class. You can't follow me _everywhere_."

"Watch me. I'll tell Flitwick what happened, he'll understand."

She nodded, and went inside. Rows of white beds, and matching curtains lined each side of the wall. Madam Promfrey, the nurse, was bustling around as she usual did. She spotted Hermione right off, and hurried over.

"What is it, dear? Are you sick? Come in, come in, lie down."

"No, Madam Promfrey, I'm here to see someone."

"Who would that be?"  
"Draco Malfoy. Is he here?" She waited on the answer with bated breath.

"Yes, he is. You should be in class..."

"I'll only be a minute, ma'am. Please...?"  
Madam Promfrey curtly nodded, and added, "but only for a minute. Mr. Malfoy needs his rest. Last curtain there, dear."

Hermione held her breath walking over to the looming bed hidden by a curtain. She pulled it back, and she let out a gasp. Draco laid there bruises forming on his face, a cut below his eye, and his arm in a sling.

"It looks worse than it is," he said.

"How did this happen?"

"Parkinson tried to kiss me when I got in the common room. I went to bed early, but this morning she was all over me again. I told her off, and she joked about me falling for you. Everyone laughed... Except me. All I remember is Blaise's fist coming at my face, then lights out."

"I'm so sorry -"

"What for?"

"If we weren't -"

"It's worth it. We knew this was going to happen, and I'm okay with it, whatever they do. Are you?"  
Hermione shook her head. "I hate seeing you hurt."

He grinned. "That sounds so good coming from you. Look, don't worry, I'll be out of here in no time. You better get to class. It's your first day back."

She kissed his forehead, then his lips. "I'll come back later."  
"Don't, I'll be out soon. I'll make my last classes. Meet me tonight at twelve in front of the statue of that witch with the hump."

She chuckled, biting her tongue to correct him of the right name. "Okay, tonight."

Hermione retired to bed early. Not because she was tired, but because she was sick of the insults, and glares she received in the common room. Harry, and Ginny couldn't always be around to protect her. Especially tonight.

Her heavy curtains were closed around her. She counted the number of times the door closed. One... Two... Three... Four. The last of her roommates were in bed. Now it was time for her to leave.

Hermione kept her wand at her side, much like she did when she overheard Draco's promise to kill her. It was a lot less threatening hearing one person wanting to kill her than an entire school. There was nowhere she was safe. Her dormitory was the closest haven she had. The girls were so disgusted with her that they wouldn't speak. Normally that annoyed her more than the loud jeering, but in this case it was easy. She didn't have to worry about the tar being beaten out of her in bed.

She peered into the shadows for lurking students, and slipped out of the portrait hole. The Fat Lady jerked awake in her frame calling out into the darkness, "who's there? Password?"  
She stifled a giggle rushing through the hallway. It was a relief being able to walk around safe. No one was there. She did have to keep her steps quiet, because she was sure Filch was roaming around somewhere looking for a student to punish. Unfortunately for her she no longer had the status of a prefect. It was taken away from her when she left. She admitted it was for good reason. She couldn't do her duties when she was in hiding.

Hermione took the twists, and turns of the passageways until she came to the designated area they had promised on. She heard a soft hissing, and followed it behind the statue immediately grabbed by strong hands, her mouth captured by someone else's, a tongue flicking over her lips.

Draco leaned his head against hers. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

"I've missed you," she said breathlessly.

He wrapped a hand in her hair, his arm fully mended. "I know this first day has been rough. Went to my last class today, and I thought I would be murdered on the spot."

"I'm lucky, Harry, and Ginny have been real good about this."

"Really? What about the Weasel?"  
"They say he'll come around, but... I don't know if he will."

Draco buried his face in the crook of her neck, his lips lingering there as he spoke. "I'm sorry, but we knew."

She leaned back, bringing his lips to hers. She turned, and nibbled his ear playfully. "I have to go," she whispered apologetic. "We have classes tomorrow."

"Yeah... Same time tomorrow night?"

She nodded happily, and snogged him once more. "Okay, I really have to go now. Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow."

They appeared from the statue. Hermione felt light, and cheerful. Whatever may come of the next day, whatever was said to her she had something to look forward to.

She made it halfway down the hallway when something from behind grabbed her around her waist. Her first thought was Draco, but he had gone the opposite way, and this wasn't his grip, he was more gentle, less broad. Panic took her. She screamed, it was piercing, but a large hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her cries. She heard Draco's yells in the distance.

"Hermione? You okay? Umph." There was the nasty sound of someone being hit.

Hermione couldn't see him. She had to see if he was alright. She bit down on the hand blood filling her mouth, and whoever it was howled in pain. She ran from the strangers grasp, and withdrew her wand from her pocket. "Lumos," the strangers face was lit, though the sudden glow hurt her eyes. She could see it was a tall bulky Slytherin. Goyle...

She sent a curse at him, the bang echoing. Goyle flew backwards off his feet crashing into the wall behind him, his head hitting it hard. He slumped down, looking like a beaten marinate.

She spun seeking Draco. She saw at the end of the hallway. He was in Blaise Zabini's hold, a dark boy with a bulky figure.

Draco's wand was a good foot from him. It was up to her now, she shot another spell from her wand, and with perfect aim Zabini flew back like his friend had. Draco straightened, and ran to her. He inspected her face in his hands as if he was going to find something there to tell him exactly how she was.

"I'm okay," she assured him. "Are you?"  
"I'm fine," he said dismissively. "You're bleeding..."

She directed away from him, spitting the blood out. "It was Goyle's, I bit him."

He laughed approvingly, "good job."  
"Get away from her!" Zabini yelled, back on his feet, his wand pointed directly at them, Draco's wand in the other. "Expelliarmus," and Hermione's wand flew out of her hand. She was defenseless.

"Not too quick are you, mudblood?"

Protectively Draco shoved her behind him. "You're problem's with me, Blaise. Leave her out of this."

"You leave the Dark Lord, and fall for a mudblood?! It's disgusting! It's no wonder your father won't claim you. I heard your mother cried of shame when she heard."

"I don't give a damn, Blaise," Draco yelled.

Hermione tried to listen for Filch. At any other time he would be bursting through handing out punishments like Christmas came early. Now he was nowhere to be seen, not even his spying cat Mrs. Norris. It figured, the one time they needed him. She couldn't be sure what good it would do. Zabini looked like he would curse anyone.

"Be honest here, Draco. Is a mudblood any better in bed than a Slytherin?"

Draco's expression was livid. "Why you -" He took a step forward leaving Hermione in Blaise' range, and he took his chance.

Hermione felt the force of the spell send her back through the air. Her body went rigid when she fell to the floor, a fresh course of pain striking her. It would only last a moment, she knew, but she didn't like her position. Her wand... Her wand was right there next to her, but she couldn't reach it. It was maddening.

She heard footsteps, intangible words, and then the sound of a body hitting the floor. She knew it was Draco, he didn't have a wand. They were done for. There was nothing saving them now...

As Zabini's gleaming face came into view a bright light blasted across it. He was gone. Rushing footsteps. Someone had come to save them! The next thing she saw was Dumbledore's hassled appearance.

They had lost a battle that night, but Hermione, and Draco were more determined than ever. They were going to win the war. No one, not even their own houses were going to tear them apart.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Condemned

"You two have caused quite a stir here," Dumbledore informed unnecessarily.

Draco, and Hermione sat in the headmasters office. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his fingers tapping together in his usual thoughtful way. Hermione felt awful. If they hadn't been wandering through the corridors none of it would happen. Granted no one was seriously hurt, Goyle would have to spend a night in the infirmary, but there was no serious damage.

"What's our punishment, sir?" Hermione watched his eyes twinkle.

"You know, Miss Granger, I was young once. I know that's hard to believe." He winked. "I understand love, and war. It seems that you two are in both. There will be no punishment given, but I'm sure you'll understand I'll have to do something before a serious incident occurs."

"Yes, sir."

"There is an empty classroom on the third floor. It is quite large, It is already set it up nicely for both of you. I'm sorry to say that we do not have an extra classroom, but I'm sure you two don't mind sharing," he chuckled.

Draco smirked "What about our classes, sir?"

"You will go on with your day as you would if you were in your own common rooms. This is only for your safety. During classes there will be teachers, and out in the hallway... Well, I trust that you won't spend much time there. I know Mr. Potter will gladly watch out for you, Miss Granger, I believe he has done so once already. As for you, Mr. Malfoy. Best keep a low profile. Now, off we trot, I must show you your new living quarter. Then, it's to bed, it's been a long day, and a long night."

The three made their way out of the office down the staircase, and up more to the third corridor. Dumbledore stopped at a huge door with a brass handle. Inside Dumbledore was right, it was huge. They walked into a sitting room. There were gold, and green chairs, and a couch surrounding a lit fireplace. Above the mantle were two banners, one of the Slytherin mascot, the snake, and the other of the Gryffindor lion.

Ahead of them through an archway they saw the kitchen. It was rather small, but was complete with all the essentials they would need.

To the left was a smaller version of the door they came through. It was cracked open, and Hermione could see a two twin beds, a dresser, and another door that she was sure was the bathroom.

"Go on, take a look, I think you will find it's rather unpretentious."

Hermione went into the bedroom. The bed's covers were green, but the pillows gold. She liked the compromise of the rival houses in one living space. She peeked into the bathroom. There was a simple bath, and shower, a sink, all glittering white.

She walked back out, Draco looking already comfortable on the couch. "It's lovely, sir."

"I'm glad you think so, Miss Granger. At this time I must leave you. I suggest that you two a good nights rest."

They were left alone. Draco got to his feet, and took her in his arms. "Come on, lets get some sleep. I need to be on my guard tomorrow, I don't have Potter looking out for me."

She chuckled, and they went into the bedroom where Draco cursed. "Twin beds?"

"We're in school, Draco, what'd you expect?"

He shrugged taking out his wand. The beds flew together to form one large one. "Much better."

She slapped his arm playfully, and they began to dress into their night clothes, Draco taking a peek over his shoulder through every item she put on.

As they slipped under the covers she realized how right it felt, Draco next to her, his even breaths on the back of her neck, his arms around her.

In a last hopeful thought of the night she thought that just maybe the rest of the school year would go smoothly. All she had to do was keep on her guard.

The next morning they ate breakfast in their new common room. Draco, and Hermione weren't about to risk eating in the Great Hall. Harry waited outside the door for Hermione.

"How -" She started to ask when she opened the door.

"Dumbledore told me," he said shortly. "For the rest of the year, I'm your shadow." He turned to Draco who stood behind her. "We're going down to the lake during break. You're welcome to join us."

Draco sneered at him, looking him over as if sizing up his truthfulness. "Fine." He kissed Hermione's cheek, and stared back at Harry. "Watch after her?"

"That's my intention."

Hermione sniffed indignantly. "You know, I can take care of myself."

Neither of the boys were listening, they seemed to be having a stare down to which Draco retreated down the hallway, opposite of where they walked.

"Harry, if you stand any closer to me, people are going to think _we're_ a couple."

Harry's shoulder touched hers as they strolled the halls. "Sorry," he mumbled stepping a short ways from her.

Students jostled them as they usually did, but with a new gentleness, but she knew it was only because Harry was with her. She leaned up, and whispered in his ear, "how's Ron?"  
He huffed, "mad as fire still."

Hermione sighed. "He'll never forgive me."

"Wouldn't go that far... He might. He just needs time."

"That'll be forever. He thought Crookshanks ate Scabbers, and he didn't speak to me for months..."

"You're the smartest witch of our age, Hermione. I know you saw this coming."

She nodded as they walked into Transfiguration, McGonagall at the front of the class, her cat-like spectacles, and strict air. Dozens of eyes followed her every moment from the point she walked in, to the point of her taking out her school book. If only she had Harry's cloak on at these times so she could be hidden from the world of condemning stares.

Their break couldn't have come quickly enough. Harry followed her everywhere, and stood outside the door when she went to the lavatory. She vividly recalled how annoying it was when she was here before the war.

Ginny joined Harry, and her by a tree near the lake that gave off the best shade. Harry held Ginny while Hermione focused one the essay Professor Bins had assigned them. She was, of course already over the three page limit he had set, but all of her professors were used to this. An extra five pages was needed to go into better depth of the Goblin Rebellion.

A darker shadow eclipsed her, and she glimpsed up to see Draco, a deep purple bruise under his right eye.

"Draco, what happened?" She set down her parchment, and quill. He dropped beside her, his pack falling from his shoulder.

"Had a run-in with Pansy. That girl can throw quite a punch."

"Why'd she hit you?"

"Probably because I called her a pig."

Hermione felt like she was missing something. "Why?"  
"Because she called you a mudbl -" He ceased in mid-sentence. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"We can go to Hagrid, he'll have a cold steak for that."

Draco held her arm placing a kiss on her shoulder. "Don't, it's okay. It'll go away. And anyway, if Pansy doesn't see that she didn't leave a mark she might curse me, and that girl's curses are worse than her punches."

This had all caught Harry, and Ginny's attention. Hermione had only just remembered that they were there.

"Potter, Weasley," Draco greeted with a curt nod.

They nodded back, "Malfoy."

He turned back to Hermione. A light breeze ruffled their hair, a strand falling over Hermione's lips. With a single finger Draco slid it away brushing over her lips, and tucking it behind her ear. He kissed her lips. They broke apart when they heard a yell.

"Oy, you!" Ron's face was contorted in rage. He ran up to them, and before they could grasp what was happening he gripped Draco's front robes pulling him to his feet.

"What's the matter, Weasel, lose your only sickle?"

"Draco, don't encourage him!"

Ron's eyes were nearly red with fire. He shoved Draco back, and threw a punch to his jaw, making Draco stumble backwards against the tree.

Hermione jumped up, and ran towards Ron pushing him. "How dare you! You foul, pathetic bug!"

Ron heaved with anger. "He's Malfoy! Don't you realize that?! He's been calling you a mudblood since our second year! He's hated you from our first! How can you do this?"

"That's none of your business!"

"It isn't? I thought we were friends!"

Hermione felt tears burn her eyes. "We were, but to be my friend you have to _trust_ me. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do, but I don't trust him." He jerked his head in the direction of Draco.

Draco pushed himself from the tree then. He came close to Ron's face. "Do you really think that I would _kiss_ her, _hold_ her, if I didn't have any feelings towards her?!"  
"Would you? Your father wouldn't approve."

Draco's fists clenched at his sides mimicking Ron's. "I was disowned Weasley. I'm poorer than you. Go ahead, relish it."

Ron smiled wickedly as if he had won against the best chest player. "Is that so, Malfoy? So, Hermione's not only dating the bouncing ferret of Slytherin, that ferret is _dirt_ poor." He glared at Hermione. "Nice choice. Of all the boys in school you chose _him._ You'd been better off with Krum." Ron scurried off the way he came leaving them staring after him.

Ginny gave a loud sigh when he was out of hearing range. "I apologize for my brother, you two. I didn't think he'd be such a prat about this. I suppose I'll owl mum about his behavior."

"Don't bother, Ginny." Hermione snatched up her pack. "He'll get over it on his own. I don't want his mother making him. Lets go, Draco."

And they left towards the school, Draco taking her hand along the way. It was when he squeezed it comfortingly that she realized that she was shaking with anger.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Their War

For next the fourteen weeks, Draco, and Hermione spent their breaks in their room. Every other day Harry, and Ginny would visit them. It was like a sad custody battle. She would have Harry, and Ginny one day, Ron the next. It was too bad she couldn't sue Ron for making her life hell since she came back.

A year of studying, the last four weeks being completely absorbed in it, and the exams were done in a day. Hermione fretted over question 1B on her Charms test for a long time before Draco assured her that she couldn't have possibly failed by one question even on the slim chance she got it wrong.

After the exams there was always the end of term feast, and that so happened to be that night.

They were leaving in a week, and she had written her parents asking for Draco to stay the summer, explaining in the shortest way possible his situation. They agreed, and though Draco was nervous, they were excited. They could do so much that summer without the dirty looks. After all, Muggles didn't know to hate them as a couple.

Draco, and Hermione laid on the couch, her head in his lap, his fingers combing through her hair. They weren't studying then, but simply enjoying the fire that was roaring casting shadows across their faces. It was peaceful.

"Are we going to the feast?" Draco asked.

Hermione sighed. "It's mandatory. We have to go."

Draco checked his watch. "Then we best go. It's in five minutes."

They grumbled as they stood. She would have loved to lie there all night with him. She had never despised her schoolmates so much in her life.

They walked down the staircases, and was about to make their way into the entrance hall when a voice boomed behind them. They spun on their heels towards the noise, to find Zabini, and Goyle. Hermione bit her tongue. They didn't need this, not so close to leaving.

"What do you want," Draco spat.

There was an evil glint in Zabini's eye. "You failed your mission, Draco. Who do you think took your place?"

"What're you talking about?"  
"The dark lord wanted Granger dead. You failed. Someone had to take your post."

Draco sounded bored, "let me guess, you did."

"Very good... But let me ask you, did you think the dark lord would want you to live as well?"

In a split second Draco, Hermione, Zabini, and Crabb all drew out their wands. Hermione pointed hers at Crabb, Draco at Zabini.

"What's going on here?" Harry appeared from down the hallway. Crabb turned, and cursed him, but missed by a good feet in his haste.

Harry with his wand already in hand yelled, "petrificus totalus," and Crabb body binded stiff, and he fell on his back with a loud thud.

Zabini wasn't going to be beaten so easily, even if it was three against one. He screamed at Hermione with hatred beyond anything she had ever seen, "avada -"

"Stupefy!" Harry roared as Draco tackled Hermione to the floor.

Pain wracked her body. She tried to move, but it was like a knife was lodged in her chest. She couldn't breath, it hurt to even try to move.

"Hermione, you okay," Harry bent next to her.

She shook her head, and gasped, "no, I think - I think my rib is broken."

Draco leapt off her, and in the gentlest way rolled her onto her back. "Calm down, don't make it worse," he said, though it sounded like he was speaking more to himself. He lifted her shirt bunching it below her bra. Hermione couldn't look down, but Draco gave her an answer. "Yeah, it's broken."

"Looks like a clean break," Harry said, "Madam Promfrey will be able to fix that in no time."

"What did you do to her?!"

Hermione flinched hearing Ron's voice from the same place Harry had come from. Mandatory, or not, Draco, and her should have stayed in their common room.

Harry bounded to his feet. "He didn't do anything wrong mate, it was Zabini, look," he pointed over to the unconscious body of the Slytherin.

Ron, however, wasn't listening, he was staring at Draco with the same rage in his eyes that he had only months ago confronting them by the lake. "You! I knew you would do something like this! You hurt her!" Ron grabbed his wand, Harry tried to wrestle it out of his grip, but was shoved aside. "Furunculous!"

Draco wailed in pain, holding his face, staggering backwards. Hermione didn't have to see Draco to know that there were boils popping up all over him. She recognized that spell, and it certainly wasn't the first time that Ron had used it against him, it was only last year that he did.

"It's not his fault, Ron!" Harry bellowed wrenching the wand out of his friends hand. "It was Zabini!"

Ron knelt by Hermione's head, looking at her with kinder eyes than he had all year. "Tell me it was Malfoy, Hermione! Tell me!"

She wanted to cry from the pain in her ribs, from Draco's cries, from her delusional friend, from everything that had happened. She wheezed for air, afraid to move in the slightest, and only her lips moved to form the words, "no."

"Hermione -"

"It wasn't him, Ron. Ron, please, stop this... It wasn't him."

"You love him, don't you?"

Hermione closed her eyes to the pain, "yes." She felt something warm, and wet drop onto her cheek, and her eyes sprung open again. Ron was crying heavy, thick tears. He pressed his lips to her forehead, and she felt a rush of emotion for him. She didn't want to hurt him, he meant so much to her.

"I'm sorry," he said, his breath hot. "Merlin, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Ron. It'll all be okay."

Professor McGonagall came rushing towards them then, her robe billowing around her. "What happened here," she panted.

Harry proceeded to tell the story while Hermione was lifted into the air by Ron, and a recovering Draco who attempted to hide his boiled face with the hood of his robe, and was taken to the infirmary. For the rest of the feast, Hermione, and Draco were being healed by an exasperated Madam Promfrey who kept fussing about the dangers of dueling, and what a stupid sport it was.

To Hermione's pleasant astonishment Ron stayed by her bedside. She was able to talk Harry into going down to the feast, because his girlfriend was going to start wondering where he was at. Ron on the other hand felt too guilty to leave her.

"I'm sorry," he repeated for the tenth time.

She was getting rather sick of forgiving him. "Ron, I don't blame you."

"How can you not?"

She sighed almost as exasperated as Madam Promfrey. "Can you imagine what I would be like if you said you were dating Parkinson?"

Ron grunted in a revolting way. "That would never happen."

"There's something that I've learned living with Draco... You never know what's going to happen."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

The End-of-Term

Like Harry had told her she could, Madam Promfrey mended Hermione's arm. By the next morning she could move about freely, and Draco's face had cleared of his boils.

Harry, Ginny, and Ron came to visit her every day to the disgust of Madam Promfrey who only allowed five minutes. Ron had finally come around to the idea of her dating Draco, though he didn't come around to Draco as a person. It would be years before they would all be on decent terms.

On their last day at Hogwarts before the summer, Draco, and Hermione packed. It was the third time they had gathered their belongings that year. It almost felt as if they would never settled in one place. In three months they would have to do it all over again for their 7th, and final year. Hermione groaned at the thought of it. An entire year of what she had been through in the last several months.

They sat their things by the door, and walked together for their final meal before they got on the train. They were the last ones down there. Every face looked up with loathing at them, and Hermione didn't want to let go of Draco's hand, but she did, and they went to their separate tables.

Of course, not every face was sketched in hatred. Harry, Ginny, and Ron were quite friendly, and she was grateful that she had them. At the same time she felt bad for Draco. He had no one, and she found herself glancing over to see if anyone at the Slytherin table had a wand in their hand.

Soon everyone's attention turned to the front of the room where Dumbledore stood. He clapped his hands together, and grinned. "Another year... We have learned so much, yet so little. I'll be looking forward to seeing many of your bright faces again this September.

This is the part where I'd normally let you feed, and water yourselves, but I do have one more important lesson to give." He sighed heavily, "here at Hogwarts we strive to become a family. A family supports one another. We all know there are rivals in ours, like in anyone else', but a matter of support should still be there. This year, I'm disappointed to say that we have not done this.

A boy of one house, and a girl of another were forced together by circumstances beyond their control. For their own safety they were hidden. In the time they were together, they fought. Oh, the fights they had... Yet, somehow they fell in love. It is not important how, or why. The point is, they did.

They loved each other so deeply that nothing could tear them apart. Not even their friends. They were beaten, mocked, and ridiculed. And yet, they sit with us in one piece, loving each other no less.

Putting aside the spells, wand movements, potion making, and everything you have learned in your classes, I hope you have learned one more thing: Love should never be taken away.

Voldemort is gone, and we are free to love, hope, and dream. Three things that should never be sacrificed. Thank you." He clapped, and piles of food appeared on the table.

The strange thing was, no one felt very hungry. Hermione was bombarded with apologies, and sympathy from every house. Some had even made their way to the Slytherin table to tell Draco the same, though sadly his house sat quietly, without movement, or remorse.

She looked up at Dumbledore who had that all familiar twinkle in his eyes. He raised his goblet towards hers with a wink, and she raised hers.

Maybe next year wouldn't be so bad after all...

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed my first fanfic. I must say that I loved your comments, I really did appreciate them. There is another story coming very soon, so feel free to check it out!


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